Study Series Bundle
Author: Maria V. Snyder
Date: 2008-01-01 08:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Young Adult; Romance; Paranormal; Science Fiction; Adventure
Description: From condemned prisoner to food taster for the Commander of Ixia, from apprentice to a charismatic assassin to warrior with ever-evolving magical powers, Yelena is a remarkable heroine like none you've ever experienced.Follow her amazing journey through Maria V. Snyder's breathtaking fantasy series, which New York Times bestselling author Mercedes Lackey calls "engaging and entirely original...fascinating in its rich detail."Bundle includes Poison Study, Magic Study and Fire Study, and also includes as a special bonus, the online read written exclusively for eHarlequin.com, Assassin Study!
Publisher: MIRA
Rights: Copyright © 2008 Harlequin Books S.A.

The Study Series Bundle

By Maria V. Snyder

Poison Study

Assassin Study

Magic Study

Fire Study

Table of Contents

Poison Study

Assassin Study

Magic Study

Fire Study

Poison Study

Maria V. Snyder

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

1

LOCKED IN DARKNESS that surrounded me like a coffin, I had nothing to distract me from my memories. Vivid recollections waited to ambush me whenever my mind wandered.

Encompassed by the blackness, I remembered white-hot flames stabbing at my face. Though my hands had been tied to a post that dug sharply into my back, I had recoiled from the onslaught. The fire had pulled away just before blistering my skin, but my eyebrows and eyelashes had long since been singed off.

“Put the flames out!” a man’s rough voice had ordered. I blew at the blaze through cracked lips. Dried by fire and fear, the moisture in my mouth had gone and my teeth radiated heat as if they had been baked in an oven.

“Idiot,” he cursed. “Not with your mouth. Use your mind. Put the flames out with your mind.”

Closing my eyes, I attempted to focus my thoughts on making the inferno disappear. I was willing to do anything, no matter how irrational, to persuade the man to stop.

“Try harder.” Once again the heat swung near my face, the bright light blinding me in spite of my closed eyelids.

“Set her hair on fire,” a different voice instructed. He sounded younger and more eager than the other man. “That should encourage her. Here, Father, let me.”

My body jerked with intense fear as I recognized the voice. I twisted to loosen the bonds that held me as my thoughts scattered into a mindless buzzing. A droning noise had echoed from my throat and grew louder until it had pervaded the room and quenched the flames.

The loud metallic clank of the lock startled me from my nightmarish memory. A wedge of pale yellow light sliced the darkness, then traveled along the stone wall as the heavy cell door opened. Caught in the lantern’s glow, my eyes were seared by the brightness. I squeezed them shut as I cowered in the corner.

“Move it, rat, or we’ll get the whip!” Two dungeon guards attached a chain to the metal collar on my neck and hauled me to my feet. I stumbled forward, pain blazing around my throat. As I stood on trembling legs, the guards efficiently chained my hands behind me and manacled my feet.

I averted my eyes from the flickering light as they led me down the main corridor of the dungeon. Thick rancid air puffed in my face. My bare feet shuffled through puddles of unidentifiable muck.

Ignoring the calls and moans of the other prisoners, the guards never missed a step, but my heart lurched with every word.

“Ho, ho, ho…someone’s gonna swing.”

“Snap! Crack! Then your last meal slides down your legs!”

“One less rat to feed.”

“Take me! Take me! I wanna die too!”

We stopped. Through squinted eyes I saw a staircase. In an effort to get my foot onto the first step, I tripped over the chains and fell. The guards dragged me up. The rough edges of the stone steps dug into my skin, peeling away exposed flesh on my arms and legs. After being pulled through two sets of thick metal doors, I was dumped onto the floor. Sunlight stabbed between my eyes. I shut them tight as tears spilled down my cheeks. It was the first time that I had seen daylight in seasons.

This is it, I thought, starting to panic. But the knowledge that my execution would end my miserable existence in the dungeon calmed me.

Yanked to my feet again, I followed the guards blindly. My body itched from insect bites and from sleeping on dirty straw. I stunk of rat. Given only a small ration of water, I didn’t waste it on baths.

Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I looked around. The walls were bare, without the fabled gold sconces and elaborate tapestries I had been told once decorated the castle’s main hallways. The cold stone floor was worn smooth in the middle. We were probably traveling along the hidden corridors used solely by the servants and guards. As we passed two open windows, I glanced out with a hunger that no food could satisfy.

The bright emerald of the grass made my eyes ache. Trees wore cloaks of leaves. Flowers laced the footpaths and over-flowed from barrels. The fresh breeze smelled like an expensive perfume, and I breathed deeply. After the acidic smells of excrement and body odor, the taste of the air was like drinking a fine wine. Warmth caressed my skin. A soothing touch compared to the constantly damp and chilly dungeon.

I guessed it was the beginning of the hot season, which meant that I had been locked in the cell for five seasons, one season shy of a full year. It seemed an excessively long time for someone scheduled for execution.

Winded from the effort of marching with my feet chained, I was led into a spacious office. Maps of the Territory of Ixia and the lands beyond covered the walls. Piles of books on the floor made walking a straight line difficult. Candles in various stages of use littered the room, singe marks evident on several papers that had gotten too close to the candle’s flame. A large wooden table, strewn with documents and ringed by half a dozen chairs, occupied the center of the room. At the back of the office a man sat at a desk. Behind him a square window gaped open, permitting a breeze to blow through his shoulder-length hair.

I shuddered, causing the chains to clatter. From the whispered conversations between prison cells, I had determined that condemned prisoners were taken to an official to confess their crimes before being hanged.

Wearing black pants and a black shirt with two red diamonds stitched on the collar, the man at the desk wore the uniform of an adviser to the Commander. His pallid face held no expression. As his sapphire-blue eyes scanned me, they widened in surprise.

Suddenly conscious of my appearance, I glanced down at my tattered red prison gown and dirty bare feet roughened with yellow calluses. Dirt-streaked skin showed through the rips in the thin fabric. My long black hair hung in greasy clumps. Sweat-soaked, I swayed under the weight of the chains.

“A woman? The next prisoner to be executed is a woman?” His voice was icy. My body trembled on hearing the word executed aloud. The calm I’d established earlier fled me. I would have sunk sobbing to the floor if the guards weren’t with me. The guards tormented anyone who showed any weakness.

The man tugged at the black ringlets of his hair. “I should have taken the time to reread your dossier.” He shooed the guards away. “You’re dismissed.”

When they were gone, he motioned me to the chair in front of his desk. The chains clanged as I perched on the edge.

He opened a folder on his desk and scanned the pages. “Yelena, today may be your lucky day,” he said.

I swallowed a sarcastic reply. An important lesson I had mastered during my dungeon stay was never to talk back. I bowed my head instead, avoiding eye contact.

The man was quiet for a while. “Well-behaved and respectful. You’re starting to look like a good candidate.”

Despite the clutter of the room, the desk was neat. In addition to my folder and some writing implements, the only other items on the desk were two small, black statues glittering with streaks of silver—a set of panthers carved to lifelike perfection.

“You’ve been tried and found guilty of murdering General Brazell’s only son, Reyad.” He paused, stroking his temple with his fingers. “That explains why Brazell’s here this week, and why he has been unusually interested in the execution schedule.” The man spoke more to himself than to me.

Upon hearing Brazell’s name, fear coiled in my stomach. I steadied myself with a reminder that I was soon to be out of his reach forever.

The Territory of Ixia’s military had come to power only a generation ago, but the rule had produced strict laws called the Code of Behavior. During peacetime—most of the time, strangely enough for the military—proper conduct didn’t allow the taking of a human life. If someone committed murder, the punishment was execution. Self-preservation or an accidental death were not considered acceptable excuses. Once found guilty, the murderer was sent to the Commander’s dungeon to await a public hanging.

“I suppose you’re going to protest the conviction. Say you were framed or you killed out of self-defense.” He leaned back in his chair, waiting with a weary patience.

“No, sir,” I whispered, all I could manage from unused vocal cords. “I killed him.”

The man in black straightened in his chair, shooting me a hard look. Then he laughed aloud. “This may work out better than I’d planned. Yelena, I’m offering you a choice. You can either be executed, or you can be Commander Ambrose’s new food taster. His last taster died recently, and we need to fill the position.”

I gaped at him, my heart dancing. He had to be joking. He was probably amusing himself. Great way to get a laugh. Watch hope and joy shine on the prisoner’s face, then smash it by sending the accused to the noose.

I played along. “A fool would refuse the job.” My voice rasped louder this time.

“Well, it’s a lifetime position. The training can be lethal. After all, how can you identify poisons in the Commander’s food if you don’t know what they taste like?” He tidied the papers in the folder.

“You’ll get a room in the castle to sleep, but most of the day you’ll be with the Commander. No days off. No husband or children. Some prisoners have chosen execution instead. At least then they know exactly when they’re going to die, rather than guessing if it’s going to come with the next bite.” He clicked his teeth together, a feral grin on his face.

He was serious. My whole body shook. A chance to live! Service to the Commander was better than the dungeon and infinitely better than the noose. Questions raced through my mind: I’m a convicted killer, how can they trust me? What would prevent me from killing the Commander or escaping?

“Who tastes the Commander’s food now?” I asked instead, afraid if I asked the other questions he’d realize his mistake and send me to the gallows.

“I do. So I’m anxious to find a replacement. Also the Code of Behavior states that someone whose life is forfeit must be offered the job.”

No longer able to sit still, I stood and paced around the room, dragging my chains with me. The maps on the walls showed strategic military positions. Book titles dealt with security and spying techniques. The condition and amount of candles suggested someone who worked late into the night.

I looked back at the man in the adviser’s uniform. He had to be Valek, the Commander’s personal security chief and leader of the vast intelligence network for the Territory of Ixia.

“What shall I tell the executioner?” Valek asked.

“I am not a fool.”

2

VALEK SNAPPED THE folder closed. He walked to the door; his stride as graceful and light as a snow cat traversing thin ice. The guards waiting in the hall snapped to attention when the door opened. Valek spoke to them, and they nodded. One guard came toward me. I stared at him, going back to the dungeon had not been part of Valek’s offer. Could I escape? I scanned the room. The guard spun me around and removed the manacles and chains that had been draped around me since I’d been arrested.

Raw bands of flesh circled my bloody wrists. I touched my neck, feeling skin where there used to be metal. My fingers came away sticky with blood. I groped for the chair. Being freed of the weight of the chains caused a strange sensation to sweep over me; I felt as if I were either going to float away or pass out. I inhaled until the faintness passed.

When I regained my composure, I noticed Valek now stood beside his desk pouring two drinks. An opened wooden cabinet revealed rows of odd-shaped bottles and multicolored jars stacked inside. Valek placed the bottle he was holding into the cabinet and locked the door.

“While we’re waiting for Margg, I thought maybe you could use a drink.” He handed me a tall pewter goblet filled with an amber liquid. Raising his own goblet, he made a toast. “To Yelena, our newest food taster. May you last longer than your predecessor.”

My goblet stopped short of my lips.

“Relax,” he said, “it’s a standard toast.”

I took a long swig. The smooth liquid burned slightly as it slid down my throat. For a moment, I thought my stomach was going to rebel. This was the first time I had taken something other than water. Then it settled.

Before I could question him as to what exactly had happened to the previous food taster, Valek asked me to identify the ingredients of the drink. Taking a smaller portion, I replied, “Peaches sweetened with honey.”

“Good. Now take another sip. This time roll the liquid around your tongue before swallowing.”

I complied and was surprised to taste a faint citrus flavor. “Orange?”

“That’s right. Now gargle it.”

“Gargle?” I asked. He nodded. Feeling foolish, I gargled the rest of my drink and almost spat it out. “Rotten oranges!”

The skin around Valek’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. He had a strong, angular face, as if someone had stamped it from a sheet of metal, but it softened when he smiled. Handing me his drink, he asked me to repeat the experiment.

With some trepidation, I took a sip, again detecting the faint orange taste. Bracing myself for the rancid flavor, I gargled Valek’s drink and was relieved that gargling only enhanced the orange essence.

“Better?” Valek asked as he took back the empty cup.

“Yes.”

Valek sat down behind his desk, opening my folder once more. Picking up his quill, he talked to me while writing. “You just had your first lesson in food tasting. Your drink was laced with a poison called Butterfly’s Dust. Mine wasn’t. The only way to detect Butterfly’s Dust in a liquid is to gargle it. That rotten-orange flavor you tasted was the poison.”

I rose, my head spinning. “Is it lethal?”

“A big enough dose will kill you in two days. The symptoms don’t arrive until the second day, but by then it’s too late.”

“Did I have a lethal dose?” I held my breath.

“Of course. Anything less and you wouldn’t have tasted the poison.”

My stomach rebelled and I started to gag. I forced down the bile in my throat, trying hard to avoid the indignity of vomiting all over Valek’s desk.

Valek looked up from the stack of papers. He studied my face. “I warned you the training would be dangerous. But I would hardly give you a poison your body had to fight while you suffered from malnutrition. There is an antidote to Butterfly’s Dust.” He showed me a small vial containing a white liquid.

Collapsing back into my chair, I sighed. Valek’s metal face had returned; I realized he hadn’t offered the antidote to me.

“In answer to the question you didn’t ask but should have, this—” Valek raised the small vial and shook it “—is how we keep the Commander’s food taster from escaping.”

I stared at him, trying to understand the implication.

“Yelena, you confessed to murder. We would be fools to let you serve the Commander without some guarantees. Guards watch the Commander at all times and it is doubtful you would be able to reach him with a weapon. For other forms of retaliation, we use Butterfly’s Dust.” Valek picked up the vial of antidote, and twirled it in the sunlight. “You need a daily dose of this to stay alive. The antidote keeps the poison from killing you. As long as you show up each morning in my office, I will give you the antidote. Miss one morning and you’ll be dead by the next. Commit a crime or an act of treason and you’ll be sent back to the dungeon until the poison takes you. I would avoid that fate, if I were you. The poison causes severe stomach cramps and uncontrollable vomiting.”

Before full comprehension of my situation could sink in, Valek’s eyes slid past my shoulder. I turned to see a stout woman in a housekeeper’s uniform opening the door. Valek introduced her as Margg, the person who would take care of my basic needs. Expecting me to follow her, Margg strode out the door.

I glanced at the vial on Valek’s desk.

“Come to my office tomorrow morning. Margg will direct you.”

An obvious dismissal, but I paused at the door with all the questions I should have asked poised on my lips. I swallowed them. They sank like stones to my stomach, then I closed the door and hurried after Margg, who hadn’t stopped to wait.

Margg never slowed her pace. I found myself panting with the effort to keep up. Trying to remember the various corridors and turns, I soon gave up as my whole world shrank to the sight of Margg’s broad back and efficient stride. Her long black skirt seemed to float above the floor. The housekeeper uniform included a black shirt and white apron that hung from the neck down to the ankle and was cinched tight around the waist. The apron had two vertical rows of small red diamond-shapes connected end to end. When Margg finally stopped at the baths, I had to sit on the floor to clear my spinning head.

“You stink,” Margg said, disgust creasing her wide face. She pointed to the far side of the baths in a manner that indicated she was used to being obeyed. “Wash twice, then soak. I’ll bring you some uniforms.” She left the room.

The overpowering desire to bathe flashed like fire on my skin. Energized, I ripped the prison robe off and raced to the washing area. Hot water poured down in a cascade when I opened the duct above my head. The Commander’s castle was equipped with heated water tanks located one floor above the baths, a luxury even Brazell’s extravagant manor house didn’t have.

I stood for a long time, hoping the drumming on my head would erase all thoughts of poisons. Obediently I washed my hair and body twice. My neck, wrists and ankles burned from the soap, but I didn’t care. I scrubbed two more times, rubbing hard at the stubborn spots of dirt on my skin, stopping only when I realized they were bruises.

I felt unconnected to the body under the waterfall. The pain and humiliation of being arrested and locked away had been inflicted on this body, but my soul had long since been driven out during the last two years I had lived in Brazell’s manor house.

An image of Brazell’s son suddenly flashed before me. Reyad’s handsome face distorted with rage. I stepped back, reflexively jerking my hands up to block him. The image disappeared, leaving me shaking.

It was an effort to dry off and wrap a towel around me. I tried to focus on finding a comb instead of the ugly memories Reyad’s image called forth.

Even clean, my snarled hair resisted the comb. As I searched for a pair of scissors, I spotted another person in the baths from the corner of my eye. I stared at the body. A corpse looked back at me. The green eyes were the only signs of life in the gaunt, oval face. Thin stick legs looked incapable of holding the rest of the body up.

Recognition shot through me like a cold splash of fear. It was my body. I averted my eyes from the mirror, having no desire to assess the damage. Coward, I thought, returning my gaze with a purpose. Had Reyad’s death released my soul from where it had fled? In my mind I tried to reconnect my spirit to my body. Why did I think my soul would return if my body was still not mine? It belonged to Commander Ambrose to be used as a tool for filtering and testing poisons. I turned away.

Pulling clumps of knotted hair out with the comb, I arranged the rest into a single long braid down my back.

Not long ago all I had hoped for was a clean prison robe before my execution, and now here I was sinking into the Commander’s famous hot baths.

“That’s long enough,” Margg barked, startling me out of a light doze. “Here are your uniforms. Get dressed.” Her stiff face radiated disapproval.

As I dried myself, I felt Margg’s impatience.

Along with some undergarments, the food taster’s uniform consisted of black pants, a wide red satin belt and a red satin shirt with a line of small black diamond-shapes connected end to end down each of the sleeves. The clothes were obviously sized for a man. Malnourished and measuring only four inches past five feet, I looked like a child playing pretend with her father’s clothes. I wrapped the belt three times around my waist and rolled up the sleeves and pant legs.

Margg snorted. “Valek only told me to feed you and show you to your room. But I think we’ll stop by the seamstress’s first.” Pausing at the open door, Margg pursed her lips and added, “You’ll need boots too.”

Obediently, I followed Margg like a lost puppy.

The seamstress, Dilana, laughed gaily at my appearance. Her heart-shaped face had a halo of curly blond hair. Honey-colored eyes and long eyelashes enhanced her beauty.

“The stable boys wear the same pants and the kitchen maids wear the red shirts,” Dilana said when she had stifled her giggles. She admonished Margg for not spending the time to find me better-size uniforms. Margg pushed her lips together tighter.

Fussing around me like a grandmother instead of a young woman, Dilana’s attentions warmed me, pulling me toward her. I envisioned us becoming friends. She probably had many acquaintances and suitors who came to bask in her attentions like cave dwellers drawn to a blazing hearth. I found myself aching to reach out to her.

After writing my measurements down, Dilana searched through the piles of red, black and white clothing stacked around the room.

Everyone who worked in Ixia wore a uniform. The Commander’s castle servants and guards wore a variation of black, white and red color clothes with vertical diamond-shapes either down the sleeves of the shirts or down the sides of the pants. Advisers and higher-ranking officers usually wore all black with small red diamonds stitched on the collars to show rank. The uniform system became mandatory when the Commander gained power so everyone knew at a glance who they were dealing with.

Black and red were Commander Ambrose’s colors. The Territory of Ixia had been separated into eight Military Districts each ruled by a General. The uniforms of the eight districts were identical to the Commander’s except for the color. A housekeeper wearing black with small purple diamond-shapes on her apron therefore worked in Military District 3 or MD–3.

“I think these should fit better.” She handed me some clothes, gesturing to the privacy screen at the far end of the room.

While I was changing, I heard Dilana say, “She’ll need boots.” Feeling less foolish in my new clothes, I picked up the old uniforms and gave them to Dilana.

“These must have belonged to Oscove, the old food taster,” Dilana said. A sad expression gripped her face for a moment before she shook her head as if to rid herself of an unwanted thought.

All my fantasies of friendship fled me as I realized that being friends with the Commander’s food taster was a big emotional risk. My stomach hollowed out while Dilana’s warmth leaked from me, leaving a cold bitterness behind.

A sharp stab of loneliness struck me as an unwanted image of May and Carra, who still lived at Brazell’s manor, flashed before my eyes. My fingers twitched to fix Carra’s crooked braids and to straighten May’s skirt.

Instead of Carra’s silky ginger hair in my hands, I held a stack of clothes. Dilana guided me to a chair. Kneeling on the floor, she put socks on my feet and then a pair of boots. The boots were made of soft black leather. They came up over my ankle to midcalf, where the leather folded down. Dilana tucked my pant legs into the boots and helped me stand.

I hadn’t worn shoes in seasons and I expected them to chafe. But the boots cushioned my feet and fit well. I smiled at Dilana, thoughts of May and Carra temporarily banished. These were the finest pair of boots I’d ever worn.

She smiled back and said, “I can always pick the right-size boots without having to measure.”

Margg harrumphed. “You didn’t get poor Rand’s boots right. He’s too smitten with you to complain. Now he limps around the kitchen.”

“Don’t pay any attention to her,” Dilana said to me. “Margg, don’t you have work to do? Get going or I’ll sneak into your room and shorten all your skirts.” Dilana shooed us good-naturedly out the door.

Margg took me to the servants’ dining room and served me small portions of soup and bread. The soup tasted divine. After devouring the food, I asked for more.

“No. Too much will make you sick,” was all she said. With reluctance I left my bowl on the table to follow Margg to my room.

“At sunrise be ready to work.”

Once again I watched her retreating back.

My small room contained a narrow bed with a single stained mattress on a stark metal frame, a plain wooden desk and chair, a chamber pot, an armoire, a lantern, a tiny woodstove and one window shuttered tight. The gray stone walls were unadorned. I tested the mattress; it barely yielded. A vast improvement over my dungeon cell, yet I found myself somewhat dissatisfied.

Nothing in the room suggested softness. With my mind and eyes filled with Valek’s metal face and Margg’s censure, and the harsh cut and colors of the uniforms, I longed for a pillow or blanket. I felt like a lost child looking for something to clutch, something supple that wouldn’t end up hurting me.

After hanging my extra uniforms in the armoire, I crossed to the window. There was a sill wide enough for me to sit on. The shutters were locked, but the latches were on the inside. Hands shaking, I unlocked and pushed the shutters wide, blinking in the sudden light. Shielding my eyes, I squinted beneath my hand, and stared at the scene in front of my window in disbelief. I was on the first floor of the castle! Five feet below was the ground.

Between my room and the stables were the Commander’s kennels and the exercise yard for the horses. The stable boys and dog trainers wouldn’t care if I escaped. I could drop down without any effort and be gone. Tempting, except for the fact that I would be dead in two days. Maybe another time, when two days of freedom might be worth the price.

I could hope.

3

REYAD’S WHIP CUT INTO my skin, slashing my flesh with a burning pain. “Move,” he ordered.

I dodged ineffectively, hampered by the rope tied to my wrist, which anchored me to a post in the center of the room.

“Move faster, keep moving!” Reyad shouted.

The whip snapped again and again. My tattered shirt gave no protection from the stinging leather. A cool, soothing voice entered my skull. “Go away,” it whispered. “Send your mind to a distant place, a warm loving place. Let your body go.”

The silken voice didn’t belong to Reyad or Brazell. A savior, perhaps? An easy way to escape the torment, tempting but I held out for another opportunity. Determined, I stayed, focusing on avoiding the lash. When exhaustion claimed me, my body began to vibrate of its own accord. Like an out-of-control hummingbird, I darted around the room, avoiding the whip.

I woke in darkness soaked with sweat, my crumpled uniform twisted tight around my body. The vibration in my dream replaced by a pounding. Before falling asleep, I had wedged a chair under the doorknob to prevent anyone from barging in. The chair rattled with each thud.

“I’m up,” I shouted. The racket stopped. When I opened the door, Margg stood frowning with a lantern. I hastened to change my uniform and joined her in the hallway. “I thought you said sunrise.”

Her disapproving stare seared my lips shut. “It is sunrise.”

I followed Margg through the labyrinth of the castle’s hidden hallways as the day began to brighten. My room faced west, shielding me from the morning sun. Margg extinguished the lantern just as the scent of sweet cakes filled the air.

Inhaling, I asked her, “Breakfast?” A hopeful, almost pleading, note crept into my voice, galling me.

“No. Valek will feed you.”

The image of breakfast laced with poison did wonders for suppressing my appetite. My stomach tightened as the unwanted memory of Valek’s Butterfly’s Dust came to mind. By the time we had reached his office, I had convinced myself that I was about to collapse, soon to be vanquished by the poison if I didn’t receive the antidote.

When I entered the room, Valek was in the process of arranging plates of steaming food. He had cleared off a section of the table. The displaced papers balanced in messy piles. He gestured to a chair; I sat, searching the table for the small vial of antidote.

“I hope you’re…” Valek studied my face. I stared back, trying not to flinch under his scrutiny.

“It’s amazing what a difference a bath and a uniform can make,” Valek said, absently chewing on a slice of bacon. “I’ll have to remember that. It might be useful in the future.” Placing two plates of an egg-and-ham mixture before me, he said, “Let’s get started.”

Feeling dizzy and flushed, I blurted out, “I’d rather start with the antidote.” Another long pause from Valek caused me to fidget in my seat.

“You shouldn’t be feeling any symptoms. They won’t arrive until later this afternoon.” He shrugged and went to his cabinet. He used a pipette to extract a measure of the white liquid from a large bottle, and then locked the antidote back inside the cabinet. My interest in the location of the key must have been obvious because Valek used some type of sleight of hand to make the key disappear. Handing me the pipette, he sat down on the opposite side of the table.

“Drink up so we can start today’s lessons,” he said.

I squeezed the contents into my mouth, cringing at the bitter taste. Valek took the pipette from my hands and exchanged it for a blue jar. “Take a sniff.”

The jar contained a white powder, resembling sugar but smelling like rosewood. Gesturing to the two plates cooling in front of me, Valek asked me to pick the one sprinkled with the poison. I sniffed at the food like a scent hound nosing for prey. A faint odor of rosewood emanated from the left plate.

“Good. Should you pick up that aroma from any of the Commander’s food, reject it. The poison is called Tigtus and a single grain of the powder will kill within the hour.” Valek removed the tainted food. “Eat your breakfast.” He indicated the other plate. “You’ll need your strength.”

I spent the remainder of the day smelling poisons until my head ached and spun. The multitude of names and aromas began to confuse me, so I asked Valek for some paper, quill and ink. He stilled.

“I don’t know why you continue to surprise me. I should have remembered that General Brazell educates his orphans.” Valek flung a book of papers, a quill and ink down in front of me. “Take them back to your room. We’ve done enough for today.”

I silently cursed myself for reminding Valek why I had been the next person to be executed as I gathered the book and writing implements. Valek’s hard, unforgiving expression revealed his thoughts. Taken off the streets, fed and educated by Brazell, I had repaid Brazell’s kindness by murdering his only child. I knew Valek would never believe the truth about Brazell and Reyad.

General Brazell’s orphanage was a topic of ridicule from the other Generals. They thought he had gone “soft” after the takeover of Ixia fifteen years ago. This impression suited Brazell. Seen as a kindly old benefactor, Brazell could continue unchallenged in his administration of Military District 5.

I hesitated at the entrance of Valek’s office, noticing for the first time the three complex locks on the thick wooden door. Absently fingering the locking mechanisms, I lingered in the doorway until Valek asked, “Now what?”

“I’m not sure where my room is.”

Valek spoke as if talking to a slow-witted child. “Ask the first housekeeper or kitchen maid you find, they’re always scurrying about this time of day. Tell her you’re in the west servant wing, ground floor. She’ll show you.”

The kitchen maid I snared into helping me was more talkative than Margg and I took full advantage of her good nature. She guided me to the laundry room to obtain some linens for my bed. Then I had her show me the way to the baths and the seamstress’s work area. Dilana’s piles of uniforms might come in handy someday.

In my room, I opened the shutters to let in the fading light from the setting sun. Sitting down at my desk, I wrote exhaustive notes on what I had learned that day, including a rough map of the servants’ corridors. I considered more exploration of the castle, but Valek had been right, I needed my strength. I hoped I would have time to explore later.

During the next two weeks, the training proceeded in a manner so similar to the first day that I lapsed into a routine, arriving at Valek’s every morning to train. After fourteen days of sniffing poisons, I found that my sense of smell had heightened. But then Valek announced I was strong enough to begin tasting poisons.

“I’ll start with the deadliest one,” he said. “If you don’t die from it, the other poisons wouldn’t kill you either. I don’t want to waste all my time training you only to see you die in the end.” He placed a slender red bottle on his desk. “It’s nasty. Affects the body immediately.” Valek’s eyes lit up as he admired the poison. “It’s called Have a Drink, My Love, or My Love for short because the poison has a history of being used by disheartened wives.” He squeezed two drops of the poison into a steaming cup. “A larger dose would definitely kill you. With a smaller dose, there is a chance you’ll survive, but you’ll become delusional, paranoid and completely disoriented for the next few days.”

“Valek, why do I have to taste My Love if it has immediate results? Isn’t that what a food taster is for? I taste the Commander’s food. I keel over, dead. End of the tale.” I tried pacing around the room but kept tripping over stacks of books. Frustrated, I kicked two piles into their neighbors, scattering books into a messy heap on the floor. Valek’s gaze pierced me, draining the odd feeling of satisfaction I had gotten from kicking the books.

“A food taster’s job is much more complex than that,” Valek explained, pulling his hair back from his face. “Being able to identify which poison taints the Commander’s food can lead me to the poisoner.” Valek handed me the cup. “Even if you only have a split second to shout out My Love before passing out, it would narrow down the list of suspects. There are a number of assassins who are partial to My Love. The poison is grown in Sitia, the southern lands. It was easy to obtain before the takeover. With the closure of the southern border, only a handful of people have enough money to purchase it illegally.”

Valek went over to the mess on the floor and started restacking the books. His movements were so graceful that I wondered if he had been a dancer, but his words betrayed to me that his fluid gestures were those of a trained killer.

“Yelena, your job is very important. That’s why I spend so much time training you. A shrewd assassin can watch a taster for several days to discover a pattern.” Valek continued his lecture from the floor. “For example, the taster might always cut a piece of meat from the left side, or never stir the drink. Some poisons sink to the bottom of the cup. If the taster only sips off the top, then the assassin knows exactly where to place the poison to kill his intended victim.” He finished picking up the books. The new piles were neater than the rest of the stacks on the floor. It seemed an invitation to Valek to continue straightening the books. He cleared a bigger path through his office.

“Once you drink the poison, Margg will help you to your room and take care of you. I’ll give her your daily dose of Butterfly’s Dust antidote.”

I stared at the steam drifting from the tea. I picked up the cup, the heat warming my icy hands. When Margg entered the room, it felt as if the executioner had just mounted the dais, reaching for the lever. Should I sit down or lie down? I looked around the room, seeing nothing. My arms started to tingle as I realized I had been holding my breath.

I raised the cup in a mock salute, and then drained the contents. “Sour apples,” I said.

Valek nodded. I had only enough time to put the cup on the table before my world began to melt. Margg’s body undulated toward me. Her large head sprouted flowers from her eye sockets. A moment later her body filled the room as her head shriveled.

I sensed movement. The gray walls grew arms and legs that reached for me, trying to use me in their fight against the floor. Gray spirits rose from under my feet. They dived, poked and cackled at me. They were freedom. I tried to push the Margg thing away, but it clung and wrapped itself around me, digging through my ears and pounding on my head.

“Murderer,” it whispered. “Sneaky bitch. You probably slit his throat while he slept. Easy way to kill. Did you enjoy yourself as you watched his blood soak the sheets? You’re nothing but a rat.”

I grabbed at the voice, trying to make it stop, but it turned into two green-and-black toy soldiers who held me tight.

“She’ll die from the poison. If not you can take her,” the Margg thing said to the soldiers.

They pushed me into a dark pit. I plunged into blackness.

The stench of vomit and excrement greeted me when I regained consciousness. They were the unmistakable odors of the dungeon. Wondering how I had ended up back in my old cell, I sat up. A surge of nausea demanded my attention. I groped around for the slop pot and encountered the metal leg of a bed, which I clutched as dry heaves racked my body. When they stopped, I leaned against the wall, grateful to be on the floor of my room and not back in the dungeon. Beds were a luxury not included with the subterranean accommodations.

Summoning the strength to stand, I located and lit my lantern. Dried vomit caked my face. My shirt and pants were soaking wet and smelled foul. The liquid contents of my body had collected in a puddle on the floor.

Margg took good care of me, I thought sarcastically. At least she was practical. If she had dumped me on the bed I would have ruined the mattress.

I thanked fate that I had survived the poison and that I had awakened in the middle of the night. Unable to endure the feel of my sodden uniform any longer, I made my way to the baths.

On my return, voices stopped me before I reached the hallway leading to my room. Extinguishing my lantern in one quick motion, I peeked around the corner. Two soldiers stood in front of my door. The soft light of their lantern reflected the green-and-black colors of their uniforms—Brazell’s colors.

4

“SHOULD WE CHECK IF she’s dead?” asked one of Brazell’s soldiers. He held the lantern up to my door, his overloaded weapon belt jingling with the motion.

“No. That housekeeper checks every morning and gives her a potion. We’ll hear about it soon enough. Besides, it stinks in there.” The other soldier waved his hand in front of his face.

“Yeah. If the smell don’t kill the mood, taking off her vomit-soaked uniform would make any man gag. Although…” The lantern soldier’s hand briefly touched the manacles hanging from his belt. “We could drag her down to the baths, clean her up, and have some fun before she dies.”

“No, someone would see us. If she survives, we’ll have plenty of time to peel off her uniform. It’ll be just like opening a present, and definitely more entertaining when she’s awake.” He leered. They laughed.

They continued down the hallway and were soon out of sight. I clung to the wall and wondered if what I had just witnessed had been real. Was I still having paranoid hallucinations? My head felt as if it had soaked too long in a pool of water. Dizziness and nausea rippled through my body.

The soldiers were long gone before I worked up the nerve to go back to my room. I pushed the door wide and thrust my lantern in front of me, shining the light into every corner and under the bed. A harsh, acrid odor was the only thing to attack me. Gagging, I unlocked the shutters and threw them open, taking deep breaths of the cool, cleansing air.

I looked at the noxious puddle on the floor. The last thing I wanted to do was clean up the mess, but I knew I would never be able to sleep while breathing in that foul smell. After raiding housekeeping’s supplies, and stopping for the occasional bout of nausea, I managed to scrub the floor without fainting.

Exhausted, I stretched out on the bed. It felt lumpy. I turned in my blankets, hoping to find a comfortable position. What if Brazell’s soldiers came back? Asleep in bed, I would be an easy target. I had cleaned myself up so there was no need to drag me to the baths. The room smelled like disinfectant, and I had forgotten to put the chair under the doorknob.

Imagination kicked in, a vivid scene of me manacled to the bed, helpless while the soldiers stripped me slowly to heighten their anticipation and savor my fear.

The walls of my room seemed to thicken and pulse. I bolted out into the hallway, expecting to see Brazell’s soldiers lurking around my door. The corridor was dark and deserted.

When I tried to reenter my room, I felt as if someone pressed a pillow against my face. I couldn’t get my feet to move past the doorway. My room was a trap. The paranoia effect of My Love or common sense? I wondered. Indecision kept me standing in the hallway until my stomach growled. Guided by my hunger, I searched for food.

Hoping to find the kitchen empty, I was dismayed to see a tall man wearing a white uniform with two black diamonds printed on the front of his shirt mumbling to himself as he lurched around the ovens. His left leg didn’t bend. I tried to sneak back out but he spotted me.

“Are you looking for me?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “I was…looking for something to eat.” I craned my neck back to see his face.

He frowned and shifted his weight to his good leg as he studied my uniform. Too thin for a cook, I thought, but he wore the proper clothes and only a cook would be up this early. He was handsome in a subtle way, with light brown eyes and short brown hair. I wondered if this was Dilana’s Rand that Margg had talked about.

“Help yourself.” He gestured toward two steaming loaves of bread. “You just won me a week’s wages.”

“Excuse me,” I said while cutting off a large piece of bread. “How could I win you money?”

“You’re the new food taster. Right?”

I nodded.

“Everyone knows Valek gave you a dose of My Love. I took a chance and bet a week’s wages that you would live.” He stopped to take three more loaves out of the oven. “A big risk, since you’re the smallest and skinniest food taster we’ve ever had. Most everyone else had wagered that you wouldn’t pull through, including Margg.”

The cook rummaged through one of the cabinets. “Here.” He handed me some butter. “I’ll make you some sweet cakes.” Grabbing various ingredients from a shelf, he proceeded to mix up a batter.

“How many food tasters have there been?” I asked him between bites of buttered bread. Working alone didn’t seem to suit him. He seemed glad to have some company.

With his hands in constant motion, he said, “Five since Commander Ambrose has been in power. Valek loves his poisons. He poisoned many of the Commander’s enemies, and he likes to keep in practice. You know, testing the food tasters from time to time to make sure they haven’t grown lazy.”

The cook’s words crawled up my spine. I felt as if my body had liquefied and pooled into a giant mixing bowl. I was just a puddle of ingredients to be beaten, stirred and used. When the cook poured the batter onto the hot griddle, my blood sizzled along with the sweet cakes.

“Poor Oscove, Valek never liked him. Testing him constantly until he couldn’t handle the pressure. The ‘official’ cause of death was suicide, but I think Valek killed him.”

Flip. I stared as the cook deftly flicked his wrist, turning the cakes over. My muscles trembled in synch with the sound of frying sweet cakes.

Here I was worried about Brazell, when one misstep with Valek and…Flip. I would be gone. He probably held a couple of poisons in reserve just in case he decided to replace the taster. Glancing over my shoulder, I imagined Valek coming into the kitchen to poison my breakfast. I couldn’t even enjoy talking with a chatty cook without being reminded that tasting potentially poisoned food wasn’t the only danger of my new job.

The cook handed me a plate loaded with sweet cakes, took three more loaves of bread out of the oven and refilled his bread pans with dough. Piping-hot sweet cakes were such a rare treat that I devoured them despite my unsettled stomach.

“Oscove was my friend. He was the Commander’s best food taster. He used to come to my kitchen every morning after breakfast and help me invent new recipes. I have to keep things interesting or the Commander will start looking for a new cook. Know what I mean?”

I nodded, wiping butter off my chin.

He thrust out his hand. “My name’s Rand.”

I shook his hand. “Yelena.”

I stopped at an open window on my way to Valek’s office. The rising sun was just cresting the Soul Mountains to the east of the castle. The colors in the sky resembled a ruined painting, as if a small child had spilled water on the canvas. I let my eyes feast on the vibrant display of life as I inhaled the fresh air. Everything was in full bloom, and soon the cool morning breeze would warm to a comfortable level. The hot season was in its infancy. The days of sweltering heat and limp, humid nights were still a few weeks away. I had been training with Valek for a fortnight, and I wondered how long My Love had held me unconscious.

Tearing myself away from the window, I walked toward Valek’s office, arriving at his door just as he was leaving.

“Yelena! You made it.” Valek smiled. “It’s been three days. I was beginning to worry.”

I studied his face. He seemed sincerely glad to see me.

“Where’s Margg?” he asked.

“I haven’t seen her.” Thank fate, I thought.

“Then you’ll need your antidote,” Valek said while moving back to his cabinet.

Once I swallowed the liquid, Valek headed toward the door. When I didn’t follow, he gestured to me.

“I have to taste the Commander’s breakfast,” he said, setting a quick pace.

I huffed along behind him.

“It’s time you meet the Commander and watch how food tasting should be done.”

We turned into the main hallway of the castle. Valek didn’t miss a step, but I stumbled and stifled a gasp. The famous tapestries from the King’s era were torn and soiled with black paint. In Brazell’s orphanage we had been taught that each tapestry represented a province of the old kingdom. Hand-quilted with gold threads during the course of many years, the colored silk pictures told a story about the history of each province. Now in rags, they still told a very powerful tale about the Commander’s rule.

The Commander’s disdain for the opulence, excesses and injustices of the former ruler and his family was well known throughout Ixia. From monarchy to military, the changes in Ixia were severe. While some citizens embraced the simple but strict rules in the Code of Behavior, others rebelled by refusing to wear their uniforms, by not requesting permission to travel, and by escaping to the south.

Based on the offense, the insurgents’ punishment matched exactly what was written in the Code. No uniform meant two days chained naked in the town’s square. It didn’t matter if the offender had a legitimate reason; the punishment was always the same. Ixia’s people discovered that there wasn’t going to be any guessing about their punishment. No bribing or good-old-boy networking either; the Commander meant business. Live by the Code or face the consequences.

I pulled my eyes away from the tapestries in time to see Valek disappear through an arched doorway decorated with lavish stonework. Splintered wooden doors hung crookedly on their hinges, but the intricate carvings of trees and exotic birds were still visible. Another victim of the takeover, and another reminder of the Commander’s intent.

I stopped in amazement just past the broken doors. This was the castle’s throne room. Inside was a sea of desks occupied by numerous advisers and military officers from every Military District in the Territory. The room hummed with activity.

It was hard to distinguish individuals in the commotion, but I finally spotted Valek’s smooth stride as he went through an open door at the back of the room. Finding a path around the maze of desks took some time. When I arrived at the door, I heard a man’s voice complaining about cold sweet cakes.

Commander Ambrose sat behind a plain wooden desk. His office was stark in comparison to Valek’s and lacked personal decorations. The only object in the room that did not have a specific purpose was a hand-size statue of a black snow cat. The cat’s eyes glinted with silver, and bright specks of the metal peppered the beast’s powerful back.

The Commander’s black uniform was perfectly tailored and immaculate, indistinguishable from Valek’s except that the diamonds stitched on his collar were real. They twinkled in the morning light. The Commander’s black hair was sprinkled with gray and cut so short that the strands stood straight up.

In Brazell’s classroom, we had learned that the Commander avoided public appearances and having his portrait painted. The fewer people who knew what he looked like, the less his chances were of being assassinated. Some thought he was paranoid, but I believed that since he had gained power by using assassins and covert warfare, he was merely being realistic.

This was not the Commander I had envisioned: burly, bearded and weighed down with medals and weapons. He was thin, clean shaven, with delicate features.

“Commander, this is Yelena, your new food taster,” Valek said, pulling me into the room.

The Commander’s gold almond-shaped eyes met mine. His gaze had the sharpness of a sword point. It pressed against my throat and fastened me to the floor. I felt myself being drawn out and examined. When he looked over at Valek, I swayed with relief.

“From what Brazell’s been hollering about, I expected her to breathe fire,” the Commander said.

I stiffened on hearing Brazell’s name. If Brazell was complaining to the Commander, I could be back in line for the noose.

“Brazell’s a fool,” Valek said. “He wanted the drama of a public hanging for his son’s killer. I personally would have taken care of her immediately. It would have been within his rights.” Valek slurped the Commander’s tea and sniffed the sweet cakes.

My chest was tight. I was having trouble drawing in air.

“Besides, it’s clearly written in the Code of Behavior that the next to be hanged gets the job offer. And Brazell was one of the authors.” Cutting a piece of one sweet cake from the center and the other from the side, Valek put both pieces in his mouth, chewing slowly. “Here.” He handed the plate to the Commander.

“Brazell does have a point,” the Commander said. He picked up his tea and stared at the contents. “When does she start? I’m getting tired of cold food.”

“A few more days.”

“Good,” the Commander said to Valek, then turned to me. “You arrive with my food and taste quick. I don’t want to be looking for you. Understand?”

Feeling light-headed, I answered, “Yes, Sir.”

“Valek, I’m losing weight because of you. Lunch is in the war room. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, Sir,” Valek said and headed for the door. I followed. We wound our way through the tangle of desks. When Valek stopped to consult with another adviser, I glanced around. A handful of the Commander’s advisers were women, and I noticed two female Captains and one Colonel. Their new roles were one of the benefits of the takeover. The Commander assigned jobs based on skills and intelligence, not on gender.

While the monarchy preferred to see women work as maids, kitchen helpers and wives, the Commander gave them the freedom to choose what they wanted to do. Some women preferred their former occupations, while others jumped at the chance to do something else, and the younger generation had been quick to take advantage of the new opportunities.

When we finally reached Valek’s office, Margg was dusting around Valek’s piles of papers on the table. It looked to me as if she was spending more time reading the papers than straightening them. Didn’t Valek notice? I wondered what Margg did for Valek besides cleaning.

Margg turned a pleasant face to Valek, but as soon as he walked away she glared fiercely at me. Must have lost a lot of money betting against my survival, I thought. I smiled at her. She managed to control her outraged expression before Valek glanced up at us from his desk.

“Yelena, you look exhausted. You make me tired just looking at you. Go rest. Come back after lunch and we’ll continue with your training.”

I didn’t really feel tired, but rest sounded like an excellent idea. As I moved along the hallway, Valek’s comment wormed its way through my mind. My pace slowed and I dragged my feet toward my room. I was so preoccupied with the physical effort of walking that I bumped right into two of Brazell’s guards.

“Lookie, Wren, I found our rat!” one guard exclaimed, grabbing my wrist.

Alert, I gaped at the green diamonds on the guard’s uniform.

“Good for you,” Wren said. “Let’s show your catch to General Brazell.”

“The General isn’t fond of live rats. Especially this one.”

The guard shook me hard. Pain coursed up my arm to my shoulder and neck. In a panic, I searched the hallway for help. It was deserted.

“That’s right, he prefers them skinned alive.”

I’d heard enough. I did what any good rat would do. I bit down on the guard’s hand until I tasted blood. Yelping and cursing in surprise, his grip lessened. I jerked my arm out of his grasp and ran.

5

I WAS ONLY A COUPLE OF STEPS away from Brazell’s guards when they recovered from their surprise and began to chase me. Being terrified and unburdened of weapons, I had a slight advantage. It wouldn’t last. I was already puffing with the effort.

The corridors were mysteriously empty as I ran through them. If I did find someone, I wasn’t really sure they would or could help me. Like a rat, my only hope of escape was to find a hole to hide in.

I ran without a plan, caring only about keeping ahead of the guards. The corridors blurred together until I imagined I was running in place and it was the walls that were moving. I slowed for a moment to get my bearings. Where was I?

The light in the hallway was waning. My pounding steps kicked dust up from the floor. I had headed toward an isolated part of the castle, a perfect place for a quiet murder. Quiet because I wouldn’t have enough air in my lungs to scream.

I made a quick right turn into a corridor that led off into darkness. Momentarily out of the guards’ sight, I pushed against the first door I encountered. Groaning and creaking, it yielded slightly under my weight, and then stuck tight. A gap big enough for my body, but not my head. Hearing the guards turn down the corridor, I threw myself against the door. It moved another inch. I tumbled headfirst into a dark room, and landed on the floor.

The guards found the door. I watched in horror as they tried to muscle it open. The gap began to expand. I scanned the room. My eyes adjusted to the gloom. Empty barrels and rotten sacks of grain littered the floor. A pile of rugs was stacked against the far wall below a window.

The door surrendered a couple more inches to the guards’ efforts before lodging again. I stood, and stacked the barrels on top of the rug pile. Scrambling up them, I reached the window, only to discover it was too small for me to fit through.

The door cracked ominously. I used my elbow to shatter the windowpane. Pulling the ragged glass fragments out of the frame, I tossed them to the floor. Blood ran down my arm. Heedless of the pain, I jumped down, pressed myself against the wall next to the doorway, and fought to stifle the harsh sound of my breathing.

With a loud groan, the door stopped mere inches from my face as the guards stumbled into the storeroom.

“Check the window. I’ll cover the door,” Wren said.

I peeked around the edge. Wren’s companion walked to the pile of rugs and barrels, crushing glass beneath his boots.

My plan wasn’t going to work. Wren blocked my escape route. The broken window would only delay the inevitable.

“Too small, she’s still here,” the guard called from above.

My rough breathing had accelerated into fast gasps. I felt light-headed. The rat trap had sprung. I was immobilized in its metal jaws.

My thoughts jumbled into a cloud of images. I clutched at the door, trying not to fall. A buzzing sound burst uncontrolled from my throat. I was unable to suppress the drone. Trying harder only caused the sound to grow louder.

I staggered out from behind the door. With all the noise I made, the guards didn’t even glance in my direction. They seemed frozen in place.

My lungs strained for air. On the verge of passing out, the buzzing then released me. The sound still rang in the room, but it no longer came from me.

The guards continued to be unresponsive. After taking several deep breaths, I bolted from the room. I wasn’t going to waste time trying to understand. The buzzing sound followed me as I ran back the way we had come.

The loud hum ended as soon as I started seeing other servants hurrying through the hallway. Odd looks were cast my way. I realized I must be quite a sight. I forced myself to stop running as I tried to calm my hammering heart.

My throat burned from panting, my uniform was stained, pain throbbed in my elbow, and bright red beads dripped off my fingers. Looking at my hands, I saw deep cuts from handling the glass. I gazed at the blood on the floor.

Turning around, I saw a line of crimson drops disappearing down the corridor. I clutched my arms to my chest, but it was too late. I had left a blood trail, and there were Brazell’s guards, like trained dogs, following it.

They were coming around the corner at the far end of the hall. Undetected so far, I knew any sudden movement would draw their attention. I joined a group of servants, hoping to blend in. Pain pulsated in harmony with my laboring heartbeat.

When I reached a turn, I risked a glance over my shoulder. The guards stood at the spot where my blood trail had ended. Wren gestured as he argued with his partner. I slipped around the corner unnoticed, then bumped right into Valek.

“Yelena! What happened to you?” Valek grabbed my arm.

I winced. He let go.

“I…fell…on some glass.” It was weak. I hurried to cover it. “I’m on my way to get cleaned up.” As I began to walk past Valek, he grasped my shoulder, spinning me around.

“You need to see a medic.”

“Ah…okay.” I tried once more to get past Valek.

“The medic is this way.” Valek pulled on my shoulder, forcing me to follow him back down the corridor toward the guards. Foolishly, I hoped they wouldn’t see me, but as we walked past they smiled, falling into step behind us.

I glanced at Valek. There was no expression on his face. His grip on my shoulder tightened. Was Valek leading me to some secluded spot where the three of them could kill me? Should I make a break for it? But if Valek had wanted me dead, he had only to withhold the antidote to Butterfly’s Dust.

When the hallway emptied of people, Valek let go of my shoulder and swung around to face the two guards. I stayed close behind him.

“Are you lost?” Valek asked the guards.

“No, sir,” said Wren. A foot taller than Valek, his hands were the size of my head. “Just want to reclaim our prisoner.” Wren tried to reach around Valek to grab me.

Valek deflected his hand. “Your prisoner?” Valek’s voice sliced through the air like steel.

The guards looked at each other in disbelief. Valek had no weapons. While the other guard was shorter than Wren, he still outweighed the other two men. Identical cocky smirks touched both guards’ faces. I wondered if sneering and glaring were part of their training. Rand the cook would probably bet a month’s wages on Brazell’s soldiers winning this argument.

“Actually, General Brazell’s prisoner, sir. Now, if you would…” Wren gestured for Valek to step aside.

“Tell your boss that Valek doesn’t appreciate having his new food taster chased through the castle. And that I would like her to be left alone.”

The guards glanced at each other again. I was beginning to suspect they had only one brain to share between them. Regarding Valek with a more focused expression, they shifted their posture into a fighting stance.

“We have been ordered to bring the girl to the General. Not messages,” Wren said, pulling his sword from his belt.

With the sound of ringing metal, the second guard flourished his weapon as well. Wren asked Valek to move aside once more. Faced with two swords, what could Valek do? Run for my life is what I would do, so I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet, preparing to flee.

Valek’s right hand blurred into motion with two quick snaps of his wrist. It looked as if he had saluted both guards. Before the men could react, he was between them, too close for swords. He crouched low, put his hands on the floor and spun. Using his legs, Valek windmilled both guards to the ground. I heard a clatter of metal, a whoosh of air from Wren and a curse from the other before they both lay motionless.

Baffled, I watched Valek gracefully move away from his fallen opponents. He counted under his breath. When he reached ten, he bent over each man and removed a tiny dart from each of their necks.

“It’s a dirty way to fight, but I’m late for lunch.”

6

STEPPING OVER THE PRONE forms of the sleeping soldiers, Valek took my injured arm and inspected it. “Not as bad as it looks. You’ll live. We’ll see the Commander first, then the medic.”

Valek hurried me through the castle. My arm began to throb. I lagged behind. The thought of facing the Commander’s stony gaze dragged at my feet. Finding the medic, then sinking into a hot bath was without a doubt more appealing.

We entered a spacious round chamber that served as the Commander’s war room. Slender, stained-glass windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling and encircled three-quarters of the chamber. The kaleidoscope of colors made me feel as if I were inside a spinning top. Dizzy, I would have stumbled except I caught a glimpse of something that rooted me to the floor.

A long wooden table filled the center of the room. Sitting at the head of the table with two guards standing behind him was the Commander. His thin eyebrows were pinched together in annoyance. A tray of untouched food sat by his side. Also seated around the table were three of the Commander’s Generals. Two of the Generals were busy eating their lunch, while the third’s fork hovered in midair. I focused on the hand; white knuckles equaled white-hot rage. With reluctance I met General Brazell’s gaze.

Brazell lowered his fork, his face taut. His eyes held lightning. I was the target, and like a rabbit caught in the open, I was too frightened to move.

“Valek, you’re…” Commander Ambrose began.

“Late,” Valek finished for him. “I know. There was a slight altercation,” he said. He pulled me closer.

Intrigued, the other two Generals stopped eating. I flushed, stifling a strong desire to bolt from the room. Having no contact with any high-ranking officers, I recognized the Generals only by the colors on their uniforms. My trip to the Commander’s dungeon was the first time I had been past the borders of MD–5. Even during the first ten years I had lived in Brazell’s orphanage, I had only caught brief glimpses of him and his family.

Unfortunately, after I had turned sixteen, the sight of Brazell and his son Reyad became my daily nightmare. I had been flattered by the attention of my benefactor; his gray hair and short beard framed a square-shaped, pleasant face that shouted respectability. Stout and sturdy, he was the ultimate father figure to me. Brazell told me I was the smartest of his “adopted” children and that he needed my help with some experiments. I readily agreed to participate.

The memory of how grateful and naive I had been sickened me. It was three years ago. I had been a puppy. A puppy still wagging her tail as the bag’s opening was tied shut.

Two years I had suffered. My mind recoiled from the memories. I stared at Brazell in the war room. His lips were pressed tight as his jaw quivered. He fought to contain his hatred. Faint with fatigue, I saw Reyad’s ghost appear behind his father. Reyad’s slashed throat hung open, and blood dripped down, staining his nightshirt. A distant recollection of a tale about murder victims haunting their killers until their business was settled filtered through my mind.

I rubbed my eyes. Did anyone else see the ghost? If so, they hid it well. My gaze slid to Valek. Was he haunted by ghosts? If that old story was to be believed, he would be swamped by them.

Worry that I might not be completely rid of Reyad pulsed through me, but not a trace of remorse. The only thing I was sorry for was not having the courage to kill Brazell when I had the chance. Sorry that I was unable to save my “sisters and brothers” at Brazell’s orphanage from turning sixteen. Sorry that I was unable to warn May and Carra, and help them run away.

The Commander’s voice brought my attention back to the war room.

“Altercation, Valek?” He sighed like an indulgent parent. “How many dead?”

“None. I couldn’t justify the disposal of soldiers merely following General Brazell’s orders to hunt down and kill our new food taster. Besides, they weren’t very smart. Seems she was on the verge of giving them the slip when she ran into me. Good thing though, or I might not have found out about the incident.”

The Commander studied me for a while before turning to Brazell.

It was all Brazell needed. Leaping from his chair, he shouted, “She should be dead! I want her dead! She killed my son!”

Valek said, “But the Code of Behavior…”

“Damn the Code. I’m a General. She killed a General’s son and here she is…” Emotion choked off Brazell’s voice. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to wrap his hands around my throat that instant. Reyad’s ghost floated behind his father, a smirk on his face.

“It’s a dishonor to me that she lives,” Brazell said. “An insult. Train another prisoner. I want her dead!”

Instinctively, I stepped behind Valek. The other Generals were nodding their heads in agreement. I was too terrified to look at the Commander.

“He has a sound argument,” the Commander said without a trace of emotion tainting his voice.

“You have never deviated from what’s written in the Code of Behavior,” Valek argued. “Start now and you’ll begin a trend. Besides, you’ll be killing the brightest food taster we’ve ever had. She’s almost trained.” He gestured to the tray of cold food beside the Commander.

I glanced around Valek to see the Commander’s expression. Thoughtful, he pursed his lips while he considered Valek’s argument. I crossed my arms, digging my fingernails deep into my flesh.

Brazell, sensing a change of heart, took a step toward the Commander. “She’s smart because I educated her. I can’t believe you’re going to listen to this upstart, conniving, sneaky thief—” Brazell stopped. He had said too much. He had insulted Valek, and even I knew that the Commander had a special fondness for Valek.

“Brazell, leave my food taster alone.”

My breath hissed with relief.

Brazell attempted to argue, but the Commander silenced him. “It’s an order. Go ahead and build your new factory. Consider your permit approved.” He dangled a carrot in front of Brazell. Was a new factory worth more than my death?

Silence followed as everyone waited for Brazell to comment. He gave me a look full of venom. Reyad’s ghost grinned, and I guessed from his cat-that-got-the-rat smile that the permit approval was very important to Brazell. More important than he let on to the Commander. The rage and indignation over my missing the noose was genuine, but he could build his factory now, and then kill me later. He knew where to find me.

Brazell left the room without saying another word. The amused ghost mouthed the words “See you next time,” before following his father.

When the other Generals started to protest the permit approval, the Commander listened to their arguments in silence. Momentarily forgotten, I studied the two Generals. Their uniforms were similar to the Commander’s except that they wore black jackets with gold buttons. Instead of real diamonds on their collars, each General had five embroidered diamonds stitched on their coats over their left breasts. No medals or ribbons decorated their uniforms. The Commander’s troops wore only what was needed for recognition and for battle.

The diamonds on the General sitting close to the Commander were blue. He was General Hazal in charge of Military District 6, just west of Brazell’s MD–5. General Tesso’s diamonds were silver for MD–4, which bordered to the north of Brazell’s. If a district planned a big project, like building a new factory or clearing land for farming, a permit approved by the Commander was required. Smaller projects, like installing a new oven at a bakery or building a house within the district, only needed approval from that district’s General. Most Generals had a staff to handle the processing of new permit applications.

It was apparent from the Generals’ complaints that Brazell’s permit was in the initial processing stages. Discussions with the bordering districts had started, but the Commander’s staff had not yet reviewed and authenticated the factory’s plans. Usually once the staff recommended approval, the Commander signed off on the application. The Code of Behavior only stated that permission must be received prior to building, and if the Commander wanted to bypass his own process he could do so.

We had been taught the Code of Behavior at the orphanage. Anyone wishing the honor of running errands into town had to memorize and recite the Code perfectly prior to gaining the privilege. Besides reading and writing, the education I had received from Brazell had also included mathematics and the history of Ixia’s takeover by the Commander. Since the takeover, education was available to everyone and not just a privilege for the men of the richer classes.

My education, though, took a turn for the worse when I began “helping” Brazell. Memories threatened to overwhelm me. My hot skin felt tight. I trembled, forcing my mind to the present. The Generals had finished their rebuttal of the Commander’s decision. Valek tasted the Commander’s cold food, and pushed it closer to him.

“Your concerns are noted. My order stands,” the Commander said. He turned to Valek. “Your food taster had better live up to your endorsements. One slip and you’ll be training her replacement prior to your reassignment. You’re dismissed.”

Valek took my arm and steered me from the chamber. We walked down the hallway until the door of the war room clicked shut. Then Valek stopped. The features on his face had hardened into a porcelain mask.

“Yelena…”

“Don’t say anything. Don’t threaten or bully or intimidate. I’ve had enough of that from Brazell. I’ll make every effort to be the best taster because I’m getting used to the idea of living. And I don’t want to give Brazell the satisfaction of seeing me dead.” Tired of examining Valek’s every facial expression and straining to hear every small nuance in his voice for clues to his mood, I moved away from him. He followed me. When we reached an intersection, Valek’s hand grasped my elbow. I heard him utter the word medic as he guided me to the left. Without once looking at his face, I let him steer me to the infirmary.

As I was led to an empty examining table, I squinted at the medic’s all-white uniform. The only color on the uniform was two small red diamonds stitched on the collar. My mind was so muddled with fatigue that it took me some time to figure out that the short-haired medic was a female. With a grunt, I stretched out on the table.

When the woman left to get her supplies, Valek said, “I’ll post some guards outside the door, in case Brazell changes his mind.” Before leaving the infirmary, I saw him speak with the medic. She nodded and glanced toward me.

The medic returned with a tray full of shiny medical instruments that included a jar of a substance that looked like jelly. She scrubbed my arms with alcohol, making the wounds bleed and sting. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

“They’re all superficial, except this one,” the medic said as she pointed to the elbow I had used to break the glass. “This wound needs to be sealed.”

“Sealed?” It sounded painful.

The medic picked up the pot of jelly. “Relax. It’s a new method for treating deep lacerations. We use this glue to seal the skin. Once the wound heals, the glue is absorbed into the body.” She scooped out a large amount with her fingers and applied it to the cut.

I winced at the pain. She pinched my skin together, holding it tight. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

“It was invented by the Commander’s cook, of all people. There are no side effects and it tastes great in tea.”

“Rand?” I asked, surprised.

She nodded. Still holding the skin together, she said, “You’ll need to wear a bandage for a few days and keep the cut dry.” She blew on the glue for a while before releasing her grip. She bandaged my arm. “Valek wants you to stay here tonight. I’ll bring you dinner. You can get some rest.”

I thought eating might require too much effort, but when she brought the hot food, I realized I was starving. A strange taste in my tea caused me to lose my appetite in an instant.

Someone had poisoned my tea.

7

I WAVED DOWN THE MEDIC.

“There is something in my tea,” I cried. I began to feel light-headed. “Call Valek.” Maybe he had an antidote.

She stared at me with her large brown eyes. Her face was long and thin. Longer hair would soften her features, her short style merely made her resemble a ferret.

“It’s sleeping pills. Valek’s orders,” she said.

I let out a breath, feeling better. The medic gave me an amused look before she left. My appetite ruined, I shoved the food aside. I didn’t need sleeping pills to help me give in to the exhaustion that lapped up my remaining strength.

When I woke the next morning, there was a blurry white blob standing at the end of my bed. It moved. I blinked and squinted until the image sharpened into the short-haired medic.

“Did you have a good night?”

“Yes,” I said. The first night in a long time free of nightmares, although my head felt as if wool had been shoved into it, and a rank taste in my mouth didn’t promise for a good morning.

The medic checked my bandages, made a noncommittal sound and told me breakfast would be a while.

As I waited, I scanned the infirmary. The rectangular room held twelve beds, six on each side, and spaced so that they formed a mirror image. The sheets on the empty beds were pulled tight as bowstrings. Orderly and precise, the room annoyed me. I felt like rumpled bedding, no longer in control of my soul, my body, or my world. Being surrounded by neatness offended me, and I had a sudden desire to jump on the empty beds, knocking them out of line.

I was farthest from the door. Two empty beds lay between the three other patients and me on my side of the room. They were sleeping. I had no one to talk to. The stone walls were bare. Hell, my prison cell had more interesting decorations. At least it smelled better in here. I took a deep breath. The clean, sharp smell of alcohol mixed with disinfectant filled my nose, so different from the dungeon’s fetid air. Much better. Or was it? There was another scent intermixed with the medical aroma. Another whiff and I realized that the sour odor of old fear emanated from me.

I shouldn’t have survived yesterday. Brazell’s guards had me cornered. There was no escape. Yet I had been saved by a strange buzzing noise that had erupted from my throat like an unruly, uncontrollable offspring. A primal survival instinct that had echoed in my nightmares.

I avoided thoughts about that buzz because it was an old acquaintance of mine, but the memories kept invading my mind.

Examining the past three years, I forced myself to concentrate on when and where the buzzing had erupted, and to ignore the emotions.

The first couple of months of Brazell’s experiments had merely tested my reflexes. How fast I could dodge a ball or duck a swinging stick, harmless enough until the ball had turned into a knife and the stick into a sword.

My heart began to pound. With sweaty palms I fingered a scar on my neck. No emotion, I told myself sternly, flicking my hands as if I could push away the fear. Pretend you’re the medic, I thought, asking questions to gain information. I imagined myself dressed in white, calmly sitting next to a fevered patient while she babbled.

What came next? I asked the patient. Strength and endurance tests, she answered. Simple tasks of lifting weights had turned into holding heavy stones above her head for minutes, then hours. If she dropped the stone before the time was up, she was whipped. She was ordered to clutch chains dangling from the ceiling, holding her weight inches above the floor, until Brazell or Reyad gave permission to let go.

When was the first time you heard the buzzing? I prompted the patient. She had released the chains too early too many times and Reyad became furious. So he forced her outside a window six floors above the ground, and let her hold on to the ledge with her hands.

“Let’s try it again,” Reyad said. “Now that we’ve raised the stakes, maybe you’ll last for the whole hour.”

The patient stopped speaking. Go on, tell me what happened, I prodded. Her arms had been weak from spending most of the day hanging from the chains. Her fingers were slick with sweat; her muscles trembled with fatigue. She panicked. When her hands slipped off the ledge, she howled like a newborn. The howl mutated and transformed into a substance. It expanded out, enveloped and caressed her skin on all sides. She felt as if she was nestled in a warm pool of water.

Next thing she remembered she was sitting on the ground. She glanced up at the window. Reyad watched her with his face flushed. His perfect blond hair an unusual mess. Delighted, he blew her a kiss.

The only way she could have survived the fall was by magic. No. Absolutely not, she insisted. It had to have been some strange wind currents or landing the right way. Not magic.

Magic, a forbidden word in Ixia since Commander Ambrose came to power. Magicians had been treated like disease-riddled mosquitoes. They were hunted, trapped and exterminated. Any hint or suggestion that someone had magic was a death sentence. The only chance to live was to escape to Sitia.

The patient was growing agitated, and the other occupants of the room were staring at her…Me. Small doses, I told myself. I could handle the memories in modest quantities. After all, I hadn’t been hurt by the fall, and Reyad was sweet to me for a while. But his kindness only lasted until I started failing his tests again.

To distract myself from the memories, I counted the cracks in the ceiling. I was up to fifty-six when Valek arrived.

He carried a tray of food in one hand and a file folder in the other. I eyed the steaming omelet with suspicion. “What’s in it?” I demanded. “More sleeping pills? Or another new poison?” Every muscle in my body had stiffened. I tried unsuccessfully to sit up. “How about giving me something to make me feel good for a change?”

“How about something to keep you alive?” Valek asked. He pulled me to a sitting position and offered a pipette filled with my antidote. Then he placed the tray of food on my lap.

“No need for sleeping pills. The medic told me you picked up on that taste last night.” Valek’s voice held a note of approval. “Taste your breakfast and tell me if you would allow the Commander to eat it.”

Valek hadn’t been exaggerating when he said I’d have no days off. Sighing, I smelled the omelet. No unusual odors. I cut the omelet into quarters, examining each for any foreign material. Taking a small piece from each section, I put them into my mouth one at a time and chewed slowly. Swallowing, I waited to discern any aftertaste. I sniffed the tea and stirred it with a spoon before sipping. Rolling the liquid over my tongue, I detected a sweet taste before I swallowed.

“Unless the Commander doesn’t like honey in his tea, I wouldn’t reject this breakfast.”

“Then eat it.”

I hesitated. Was Valek trying to trick me? Unless he had used a poison I hadn’t learned, the breakfast was clean. I ate every morsel, and then drained the tea while Valek watched.

“Not bad,” he said. “No poisons…today.”

One of the medics brought another tray to Valek. This tray held four white cups of an olive-colored liquid that smelled like mint. Replacing my breakfast tray with the new one, Valek said, “I want to go over some tasting techniques. Each of these cups contains mint tea. Taste one.”

Clasping the closest mug, I took a sip. An overwhelming flavor of mint pervaded my mouth. I choked.

Valek grinned. “Taste anything else?”

I attempted another mouthful. The mint dominated. “No.”

“All right. Now pinch your nose tight and try again.”

After some fumbling with my bandaged arm, I managed to gulp the tea while holding my nose. My ears popped. I marveled at the taste. “Sweet. No mint.” My voice sounded silly so I released my grip. Immediately, the mint eclipsed the sweetness.

“Correct. Now try the others.”

The next cup of mint tea hid a sour taste, the third had a bitter flavor, and the fourth was salty.

“This technique works for any drink or food. Blocking your sense of smell eliminates all flavors except sweet, sour, bitter and salt. Some poisons are recognizable by one of those four flavors.” Valek paged through his folder. “Here is a complete list of human poisons and their distinct tastes for you to memorize. There are fifty-two known poisons.”

I looked through the inventory of poisons. Some of them I had already smelled. My Love was at the top. The list would have saved me from the dizziness, nausea, headaches and occasional delusional effects of the poison. I brandished the paper in the air. “Why didn’t you just give me this list instead of making me sample My Love?”

Valek stopped paging through his folder. “What would you learn from a list? Kattsgut tastes sweet. What does that taste like? Honey sweet? Apple sweet? There are different levels of sweetness and the only way to learn them is to taste them yourself. The only reason I’m giving you this list is because the Commander wants you working as soon as possible.” Valek snapped his folder shut. “Just because you aren’t going to taste those poisons now doesn’t mean you won’t in the future. Memorize that list. Once the medic releases you from the infirmary, I will test your knowledge. If you pass, then you can start work.”

“And if I fail?”

“Then I’ll be training a new taster.”

His voice was flat, monotone, but the force behind it caused my heart to lock.

Valek continued. “Brazell will be in the castle for another two weeks. He has more business to attend to. I can’t have you guarded all day, so Margg is preparing a room for you in my suite. I’ll come back later to see when you’ll be discharged.”

I watched Valek walk to the door. He glided across the room, balanced and athletic. I shook my head. Thinking about Valek was the absolute worst thing I could be doing. Instead, I focused on the list of poisons clutched in my hand. I smoothed the paper out and hoped my sweat hadn’t smeared the ink. Relieved that the writing was legible, I began to study.

I barely noticed when the medic came to check on my arm. She must have taken the tray of teacups, because it disappeared from my lap. I had blocked out all the noise and commotion of the infirmary so that I jumped when a plate containing a round pastry was thrust under my nose.

The arm that held the plate led to Rand. His grin was gleeful.

“Look what I smuggled past Medic Mommy! Go ahead. Eat it before she comes back.”

The warm dessert smelled like cinnamon. Melted white icing dripped down the sides, causing the cake to stick to my fingers when I picked it up. I examined the pastry closely, inhaling the aroma in search of a foreign smell. One small bite revealed multiple layers of dough and cinnamon.

“My God, Yelena, you don’t think I’d poison it?” Rand’s face was pinched tight, as if he was in pain.

Exactly what I’d been thinking, but admitting it to Rand would offend him. His motives for being here were unclear. Seeming nice and friendly, he could be holding a grudge over his friend Oscove, the previous food taster. But then again, he was a potential ally. Who better to have on my side? Rand, the cook, whose food I’d be eating on a daily basis, or Valek, the assassin, who had a nasty tendency of poisoning my meals?

“Occupational hazard,” I tried.

He grunted, still put out. I took a big bite of the pastry.

“Wonderful,” I said, appealing to his ego to give me another chance.

Rand’s face softened. “Good, isn’t it? My latest recipe. I take a long strip of pastry dough, cover it with cinnamon, roll it up into a ball, bake it, and then spread the icing on while it’s hot. I’m having some trouble with the name though. Cinnamon cake? Ball? Swirl?” Rand stopped his rambling to find a chair. After quite a bit of twisting to compensate for his unbendable left leg, he finally settled into a comfortable position.

While I finished the pastry, Rand continued. “Don’t tell Medic Mommy I gave you that. She doesn’t like her patients eating anything but a thin gruel. She says the gruel promotes healing. Well, of course it has an effect!” He threw his arms up, exposing several burn scars around his wrists. “It tastes so terrible that anyone would get better just to get a decent meal!”

The wild gesture caused the other patients to glance our way. Rand leaned in closer to me and asked in a quiet voice, “So, Yelena, how are you feeling?” He looked at me as though he was appraising a selection of meat, determining which one would make the best roast.

I was wary. Why would he care? “Gambling again?” I asked.

He leaned back. “We’re always gambling. Gambling and gossiping is all we servants do. What else is there? You should’ve seen the commotion and betting that went on when you were spotted being chased by Brazell’s goons.”

Appalled, I said, “Nobody came to help me. The hallways were deserted.”

“That would be involvement in a situation that doesn’t affect us directly. Servants don’t ever do that. We’re like cockroaches scurrying around in the dark.” Rand’s slender fingers waggled. “Shine a light…poof!” He flicked his long fingers for emphasis. “We disappear.”

I felt like the unlucky cockroach that got caught by the light. Always scrambling to stay one step ahead while the shadow of a boot crept closer.

“Anyway, the odds were against you. Most lost big, while only a few—” Rand paused dramatically “—won big.”

“Since you’re here, I suppose you won big.”

He smiled. “Yelena, I’m always going to bet on you. You’re like one of the Commander’s terriers. A tiny, yappy dog you wouldn’t look at twice, but once it grabs your pant leg, it won’t let go.”

“Poison the dog’s meat and it won’t bother you anymore.”

My sour tone deflated Rand’s grin. “Trouble?”

Surprised that the castle’s gossip network hadn’t already started laying odds about Valek’s test, I hesitated. Rand liked to talk, and he could get me in trouble. “No. It’s just being the food taster and all…” I hoped that would satisfy him.

Rand nodded. He spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between reminiscing about Oscove and digressing about potential new recipes. When Valek appeared, Rand stopped talking, his face paled and he mumbled something about having to check on dinner. Lurching from his chair, he almost toppled in his haste to flee the room. Valek watched as Rand staggered out of the infirmary.

“What was he doing here?”

Valek’s expression remained neutral, but the stillness of his body made me wonder if he was angry. Carefully choosing my words, I explained to him that Rand had come to visit.

“When did you meet him?”

A casual question, but again there was an undercurrent to his words. “After I recovered from My Love, I went in search of food and met Rand in the kitchen.”

“Watch what you say around him. He’s not to be trusted. I would have reassigned him, but the Commander insisted he stay. He is a genius in the kitchen. Some kind of protégé. He started cooking for the King at a very young age.”

Valek stared at me with his cold blue eyes, warning me away from Rand. Maybe that’s why Valek hadn’t liked Oscove. Being allied with someone who had been loyal to the King could cast more suspicion on me. But letting Valek scare me off rankled. I stared back at him with, I hoped, an indifferent look.

Valek looked away. I was jubilant. In my mind, I had finally won a round.

“You leave the infirmary tomorrow morning.” Valek was curt. “Get yourself cleaned up and report to my office to take the test. I won’t think you’re ready even if you pass, but the Commander ordered me to have you available by lunch.” He shook his head in annoyance. “It’s a shortcut. I hate shortcuts.”

“Why? You won’t have to risk yourself anymore.” I regretted the words as soon as they had left my mouth.

Valek’s gaze was lethal. “In my experience, shortcuts usually lead to death.”

“Is that what happened to my predecessor?” I asked, unable to stifle my curiosity. Would Valek confirm or deny Rand’s theories?

“Oscove?” Valek paused. “He didn’t have the stomach for it.”

8

WHEN I AWOKE THE NEXT morning, Valek’s list of poisons was still clutched in my hand. I reviewed the poison inventory until the medic discharged me.

Bruised muscles protested every movement as I headed for the door. I should have been happy to leave the infirmary, but my nerves preoccupied me. My stomach felt as if it contained a live mouse, trying to chew its way out.

The guards stationed outside the infirmary door startled me. But they weren’t wearing Brazell’s colors, and I belatedly remembered that Valek had assigned them as protection until I reported to his office.

I glanced around to get my bearings, but had no idea which direction led to my room. I had been living in the castle for eighteen days, but I was still uncertain of its inner layout. The basic shape of the castle itself eluded me, having never seen it from the outside.

The prison carriage that had brought me to the castle had been a square box with airholes. I had refused to peer out like some caged animal. When I reached the castle, I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to block out the anguish of being chained, groped and dragged to the dungeon. I guess I could have focused on potential ways to escape, but I had accepted my punishment when I had killed Reyad.

As much as I hated to ask the guards for directions to my room, I had no choice. Wordlessly they guided me through the castle. One walked in front, the other followed. Only after the lead man inspected my room was I allowed inside.

My uniforms hung undisturbed in the armoire. But instead of being hidden inside a drawer, my journal lay open on the top of the desk. Someone had read my impressions of poisons and other information. The queasy feeling in my gut was replaced by a cold, hard sensation. The mouse had died, reflecting my sour mood perfectly.

I suspected Valek. He was bold enough to have gone through my personal papers. He had probably even reasoned that it was his duty to make sure I wasn’t plotting something. After all, I was just the food taster, and not entitled to any privacy.

Grabbing the journal and uniforms, I left my room and headed for the baths. The guards waited outside while I soaked in the water. I took my sweet time. Valek and his test could wait; I wasn’t going to carry out his orders like some idiotic drone.

Chased by Brazell’s guards, finding poison in almost all of my meals, and being wagered on like some damn racehorse didn’t cause me to be as angry as I was about Valek reading my journal.

Arriving at Valek’s office, I cut off any smart remark he could make by demanding, “Where’s your test?”

Amusement touched Valek’s face. He rose from behind his desk. Sweeping his arm with a dramatic flourish, he indicated two rows of food and drinks on the conference table. “Only one item isn’t poisoned. Find it. Then eat or drink your selection.”

I tasted each item. I sniffed. I gargled. I held my nose. I took small bites. I spat. Some of the food had grown cold. Most of the meals were bland, making the poison easy to spot, while the fruit drinks masked the poison.

Finishing the last item, I turned to Valek. “You bastard. They’re all poisoned.” What a nasty trick; I should have suspected he would pull a stunt like that.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t touch anything on that table.”

Valek’s gaze was stony as he walked toward me. “I’m sorry, Yelena. You’ve failed.”

My heart plunged into my stomach. The dead mouse resuscitated and began to gnaw holes in my gut. I searched the table. What had I missed?

Nothing. I was right. I challenged Valek to prove me wrong.

Without hesitation he raised a cup. “This one is clean.”

“Drink it.” I remembered that cup. It was laced with a bitter poison.

Valek’s hand wavered a bit. He sipped. I bit my lip. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was the cup next to it. Valek held my gaze as he rolled the liquid around his tongue. He spat.

I wanted to jump, to cheer, to dance little circles around him. Instead I said, “Blackberry poison.”

“Yes,” Valek said. He alternated between examining the cup in his hand and absentmindedly staring at the rows of cold food.

“I passed?”

He nodded, still distracted. Then he walked to his desk, and he gently placed the cup down. Shaking his head, he picked some papers up only to put them back unread.

“I should have known you would try to trick me.”

My heated tone drew his eyes. I wished then that I’d remained silent.

“You’re all fired up. And it isn’t because of the test. Explain yourself.”

“Explain? Why do I have to explain? Maybe you should explain why you read my journal.” There, I’d said it.

“Journal?” Valek looked at me in amazement. “I didn’t read anything of yours. But if I had, it would have been within my rights.”

“Why?” I demanded.

An incredulous look settled on Valek’s face. His mouth opened and closed several times before he was able to voice his thoughts. “Yelena, you confessed to murder. You were caught straddling Reyad’s body with a bloody knife in your hand. I searched your file for a motive. There was none. Only a report that you refused to answer all questions.”

Valek stepped closer. He lowered his voice. “Since I don’t know what motivates you to kill, I can’t predict if you’ll do it again or what might set you off. I’m bound by the Code of Behavior, so I had to offer you the choice of becoming the new taster.” He drew a deep breath and continued. “You’ll be very close to the Commander on a daily basis. Until I can trust you, I’ll be watching you.”

My anger leaked away. Why should I expect Valek to trust me when I didn’t trust him?

My composure returned. “How do I win your trust?”

“Tell me why you killed Reyad.”

“You’re not ready to believe me.”

Valek averted his gaze to the conference table. I covered my mouth with my hand. Why had I used the word ready? Ready implied that he would believe me at some point. Pure wishful thinking on my part.

“You’re right,” he said.

We seemed to be at an impasse.

“I passed your test. I want my antidote.”

Roused into action, Valek drew a dose, handing it to me.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Lunch! We’re late.” He hustled me out the door. I gulped the white liquid as we moved.

As we neared the throne room, the noise of many voices speaking at once echoed through the halls. Two of the Commander’s advisers were arguing. Officers and soldiers clumped behind the two advisers. The Commander leaned against a nearby desk, listening intently.

The group debated the best way to locate and recapture a fugitive. The right side insisted upon using an oversupply of soldiers and tracking dogs, while the left claimed that a few clever soldiers would work. Brute force versus intelligence.

The exchange, while loud, lacked anger. The guards stationed around the room stood relaxed. Surmising that this type of debate was common, I wondered if the fugitive was a real person or just part of a hypothetical exercise.

Valek moved next to the Commander. I stood behind them. The debate made me squirm because I couldn’t help imagining myself as the poor soul being hunted.

I pictured myself running through the woods, out of breath, and straining to hear the sounds of pursuit. Unable to blend into a town because a new face would alert the soldiers on patrol. Bored soldiers whose only job was to watch, who were familiar with the town’s inhabitants.

Every citizen of the Territory of Ixia had a specific job. After the takeover, everyone had been appointed an occupation. A citizen was allowed to move to a different town or Military District, but proper forms were required. A completed transfer request needed approval from the supervisor, and proof that a position was being held at the new address. Without the proper documents, a civilian found in the wrong neighborhood was arrested. Visiting other districts was acceptable, but again only as long as the proper papers were obtained and shown to the soldiers on arrival.

While working in isolation with Brazell and Reyad, I had obsessively thought about escape. Thinking of freedom had been better than dwelling on my life as a laboratory rat. With no family or friends outside the manor to hide me, though, the southern lands were my best option, assuming I could penetrate the well guarded border.

I had created elaborate fantasies of stealing away to Sitia, finding an adoptive family and falling in love. Corny, sentimental rubbish, but it was my only elixir. Every day when the experiments began, my mind would focus on Sitia, finding bright colors, loving gestures and warmth. Holding those images in my mind, I endured Reyad’s tests.

But even if I had been given the opportunity to escape, I don’t know if I would have seized it. Although I remembered nothing of my birth family, I did have a family living within the manor house. The other lost children who had been taken in. My sisters. My brothers. My children. I learned with them, I played with them and I took care of them. How could I abandon them? To think of May or Carra taking my place was too much to bear.

I bit on my finger until I tasted blood, and dragged my thoughts back to the present. I had escaped from Brazell. He would leave the castle in two weeks and return home, probably to the next round of experiments with a different laboratory rat. My heart went out to her, whoever she was. Brazell was brutal. She was in for a rough time. But I had saved her from Reyad.

Pulling my hand away from my mouth, I inspected the bite mark. Not too deep, it wouldn’t scar. I traced the network of semicircular scars that covered my fingers and knuckles. When I looked up, I caught Valek staring at my hands. I laced them behind my back.

The Commander raised his hand. Quiet descended in an instant. “Excellent points from both sides. We will put your theories to the test. Two teams.” Pointing to the two main debaters, the Commander said, “You’ll be the Captains. Assemble your team and organize a plan of attack. Recruit as needed. Valek will supply a fugitive from one of his men. You have a fortnight to prepare.”

The noise level rose as the Commander headed toward his office with Valek and I close behind.

Valek shut the office door, muffling the commotion. “Is Marrok’s escape to Sitia still bothering you?” he asked.

The Commander frowned. “Yes. Sloppy work, that pursuit. Marrok must have known you were in MD–8. You really need to train a couple of protégés.”

Valek looked at him in mock horror. “But then I wouldn’t be indispensable.”

A quick smile graced the Commander’s face, before he spotted me lingering near the corner. “Well, Valek, you were right about this one. She survived your test.” Then to me, he said, “Come here.”

My feet obeyed despite my hysterical heart.

“As my official food taster, you’re to report to me with my breakfast. I’ll give you my daily itinerary and expect you to be present at each meal. I will not accept tardiness. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He glanced at Valek. “She looks fragile. Are you sure she’s strong enough?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The Commander appeared unconvinced. His golden eyes tracked from me to Valek as he contemplated. I hoped with desperation that he wasn’t looking for an excuse to fire me.

“All right. Since I missed lunch, Valek, you will join me for an early dinner. Yelena, you start as my food taster tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, Sir,” Valek and I said in unison. We were dismissed.

We returned to Valek’s office to gather my extra uniforms and journal. Valek escorted me to his living quarters, located in the central part of the castle. As we traveled the main hallways, I noticed that the bright areas of stone on the wall outnumbered the darker zones. A vast array of paintings must have been taken down. We also passed several large, colorless rooms that had been redesigned as either offices or barracks.

It occurred to me that the Commander’s functional style and stark standards had robbed the castle of its soul. All that remained was a dead stone building reassigned to purely utilitarian purposes.

I was too young to remember what life was like before the takeover, but I had been taught in Brazell’s orphanage that the monarchy had been corrupt and its citizens unhappy. The takeover had been just that; to call it a war would be inaccurate. Most of the King’s soldiers had switched loyalty to the Commander. They had been disgusted with promotions based on bribery and blood ties instead of hard work and skill. Orders to kill people for minor infractions because a member of the elite was angry caused sour feelings among the men.

Women had been recruited to the Commander’s cause, and they made excellent spies. Valek assassinated the key supporters of the King. When the King tried to raise an army to fight the Commander’s army, he had no defenders. The Commander captured the castle without a fight, and little blood was shed. Most of the nobility had been killed, but a few had escaped to Sitia.

Valek and I arrived at a pair of massive wooden doors, guarded by two soldiers. Valek spoke with the guards, instructing them that I was to be allowed access as needed. We entered a short hallway with two doors on opposite sides. Valek unlocked the door on the right and explained to me that the other led to the Commander’s apartment.

Valek’s living quarters turned out to be an expansive suite of rooms. Coming in from the gloomy hallway, I was struck by the brightness of the main, L-shaped living area. Windows as thin as a tiger’s stripes allowed sunlight to pour in.

Piles of books occupied every corner and tabletop. Hand-size gray rocks, streaked with white, and multicolored crystals were scattered throughout.

Small black statues of animals and flowers glinted with silver. The statues dotted the room. Delicate and intricately detailed, they were similar to the panthers on Valek’s office desk, and were the room’s only decoration.

A considerable collection of weapons hung on the walls. Some of the weapons were old, dust-covered antiques that hadn’t been used in years, while others shined. One long, thin knife still had fresh blood on the blade. The crimson liquid gleamed in the sunlight, causing a chill to snake through my body. I wondered who had been on the wrong end of that blade.

To the left of the entrance was a stairway, and three doors lined the right wall of the living area.

Valek pointed to the first door on the right. “That room is yours until Brazell leaves the castle. I suggest you get some rest.” He picked up three books from an end table. “I’ll be back later. Don’t go out. I’ll bring you dinner.” Valek left, but then came back before the door shut. “Lock the door behind me. You should be safe here.”

Safe, I thought, turning the bolt, was the last thing I could ever feel here. Anyone who knew how to pick a lock could sneak in, grab a weapon and have at me. I examined the swords on the wall, and sighed with some relief. The weapons were anchored securely. I tugged hard on a mace, just to be sure.

The clutter surrounding my door was thicker than around the other two, and I discovered why when I entered. Clean, box-shaped areas were outlined by the thick dust that still coated the floor, bed, bureau and desk. The room had been used for storage. Instead of cleaning it, Margg must have just moved the boxes out and considered her job done.

Margg’s minimal work was a not so subtle hint of her vast dislike for me. Perhaps it would be best to avoid her for a while.

Inside the room, the bedding was filthy. A musty smell permeated. I sneezed. There was a small window, and after wrestling with the shutters, I managed to open it.

The furniture was made of expensive ebony. Intricate carvings of leaves and vines curled down chair legs and across drawers. When I wiped the dust off the headboard, I uncovered a delicate garden scene with butterflies and flowers.

After I stripped the bed of its dirty sheets and stretched out on the mattress, my impression of Margg as a harmless grump-with-a-grudge evaporated. At that moment I saw that a message had been written in the dust on the desk.

It read, “Murderer. The noose waits.

9

I VAULTED FROM THE BED. The message disappeared from view, but I didn’t feel any better. Little darts of fear pulsed from my heart as my mind leaped from one horrible scenario to the next.

Was Margg warning or threatening me? Was she planning to earn the money she’d lost betting against me by turning me over to Brazell’s goons for a fee?

But why warn me? I calmed myself. Once again I had overreacted. From what I’d seen and heard about Margg, her message was probably for the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. A peevish gesture because she was angry at having to do extra work for me. I decided it would be best not to give her any indication that I’d seen or had been affected by her childish note. Thinking back on it, I would bet that she had also read my journal, leaving it wide open on the desk just to annoy me.

Valek had suggested I rest, but I was on edge. I went into Valek’s living room. Margg’s note had reminded me to stick to my instincts and not trust a soul. Then my worries would be minimized to tasting for poisons and avoiding Brazell.

If only it was that simple or I was that strong. Naiveté and blind trust may have been driven out of me by Brazell and Reyad, but deep down in the small corners of my heart I still clung to the hope that I might find a true friend.

Even a rat needs other rats. I could empathize with the rats. I, too, scurried around, looked over my shoulder and sniffed for poisoned traps.

Right now, I scrambled just to stay alive until the next day, but someday I would be searching for a way out. Knowledge was power, so I planned to sit tight, to listen and learn all I could. I started with Valek’s living area. Lifting a rock off one of the tables, I began to pick my way through the clutter in his suite, surface snooping only because I suspected Valek would booby-trap his drawers.

I found a couple of texts on poisons that interested me, but their contents dealt mostly with assassination and intrigue. Some of the books had worn leather bindings and were written in an archaic language that I couldn’t decipher. Valek was either a collector, or he had stolen the books from the dead King’s library.

I was at the bottom of the stairs when I spotted a diagram of the castle’s layout. It had been wedged into the corner of a picture frame hanging on the right wall of the staircase. Finally, something I could use. As I examined the map, I felt as if a translucent mask had been lifted off my face, allowing me to see the castle clearly.

Postponing my explorations of the rooms upstairs, I retrieved my journal. The map was displayed in full sight. Valek wouldn’t be upset that I had seen it. He’d probably be happy that I didn’t need to ask for directions every time I had to go somewhere new. I cleared a space on the couch, wormed into a comfortable position and began to copy the map.

I jerked awake. My journal slammed to the floor. Blinking in the candlelight, my eyes searched the room. I had been dreaming of rats. They had poured down from the walls, welled up from the floor and swarmed after me. A sea of biting rodents that seized clothes, skin and hair in their sharp little teeth.

A shudder shook my body. I lifted my feet off the floor as I scanned the room. No rats, unless I included Valek. He was halfway around the room, lighting the lanterns.

As I watched him finish, I thought about Valek being a fellow rat. No. Definitely not. A cat. And not just any ordinary, household cat, but a snow cat. The most efficient predator in the Territory of Ixia. Pure white, the snow cat was the size of two massive dogs fused together. Quick, agile and lethal, the snow cat killed before its prey even suspected danger. They stayed mostly in the north where the snow never melted, but had ventured south when food grew scarce.

No one in the history of Ixia had killed a snow cat. The predator either smelled, heard or saw the hunter before he could get close enough to strike with a handheld weapon. They bolted like lightning upon hearing the twang of a bowstring. The best the northern people could do was feed the cats, hoping to keep them on the snowpack and away from populated areas.

After lighting the last lantern, Valek turned toward me. “Something wrong with your room?” He picked up a tray and handed it to me.

“No. Couldn’t sleep.”

Valek snorted with amusement. “I see.” He gestured toward the tray. “Sorry your dinner is cold. I was detained.”

Automatically testing for poisons, I took a couple of small spoonfuls. I glanced at Valek to see if he was offended by the gesture. He was not. His face still held an amused expression. Between bites, I asked Valek if anyone else had a key to his suite.

“Just the Commander and Margg. Will that help you sleep better?”

Ignoring his question, I asked, “Is Margg your personal housekeeper?”

“Mine and the Commander’s. We wanted someone we could trust. Someone instantly recognizable. She was with us before the takeover, so her loyalty is beyond doubt.” Valek sat at his writing desk, but turned his chair to face me. “Remember when you were in the war room?”

Confused by the change in subject, I nodded.

“There were three Generals in the room. Brazell, you knew, but can you identify the other two?”

“Tesso and Hazal,” I answered, proud that I had remembered.

“Can you describe them? Hair color? Eyes?”

I hesitated as I thought back. They had worn Generals’ uniforms, and they had been eating lunch. I shook my head. “I think General Tesso had a beard.”

“You identified them by their uniforms and didn’t look at their faces. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I thought. That’s the problem with the uniform requirement. It makes a person lazy. A guard will see a housekeeping uniform and just assume that person belongs in the castle. It’s too easy for someone to sneak about, which is why I keep the Commander surrounded at all times by loyal people. And why Margg is the only housekeeper permitted to clean the Commander’s and my suites and offices.”

Valek’s tone made me feel as if I had been transported to a classroom. “Why not dismiss all the servants in the castle and use your own people?”

“Soldiers make up the majority of our army. Civilians who joined prior to the takeover were made advisers or given other prominent positions. Some of the King’s servants were already on our payroll, and the others we paid double what they earned working for the King. Well-paid servants are happy servants.”

“Does the entire castle’s staff get paid?”

“Yes.”

“Including the food taster?”

“No.”

“Why not?” I hadn’t even thought about receiving wages until Valek mentioned it.

“The food taster is paid in advance. How much is your life worth?”

10

NOT EXPECTING AN ANSWER, Valek swiveled back to his desk.

Ah, well, he had a point. I finished the cold food. When I set the tray aside to go to my room, Valek turned back to me.

“What would you buy with the money?”

A list rushed from my mouth, surprising even me. “A hair brush, nightclothes, and I’d spend some at the festival.”

I wanted nightclothes because I was tired of sleeping in my uniform. I didn’t dare sleep in my undergarments for fear I’d have to run for my life in the middle of the night. And the annual fire festival was approaching. It was sort of an anniversary for me. It had been during the previous fire festival that I had killed Reyad.

Although the Commander outlawed all forms of public religion, he encouraged the festivals as a form of boosting morale. Only two annual festivals were permitted.

I had been in the dungeon during the last ice festival, missing the indoor event where artists and craftsmen displayed their work. The ice festival was always held during the cold season when there was nothing to do but huddle by the fire and make crafts. It was a local event with each town hosting its own festival.

The fire festival was a massive carnival that traveled from town to town during the hot season. The festival began in the far north, where the warm weather lasted a few short weeks, and then wound its way south.

Traditionally, additional performances and contests were scheduled for the weeklong celebration at the castle in the middle of the hot season, and I was hoping I might be permitted to attend. Valek had indicated to me that he would be teaching me additional tasting techniques in the afternoons, but the rest of the time between meals had, so far, been mine.

I had always loved going to the fire festival. Brazell had given the children in his orphanage a small allowance so we could go each year. It had been the most anticipated event at Brazell’s manor house. We would practice all year to qualify for the various contests, and save every penny possible for the entry fee.

Valek’s practical voice interrupted my thoughts. “You can get some nightclothes from the seamstress, Dilana. She should have included them with your uniforms. As to the rest, you’ll have to make do with what you can find.”

Valek’s words brought home the realities of my life; meaning fire festivals were not included. I might get a chance to see the festival, but I wouldn’t be able to sample the spicy chicken steaks or taste the wine.

Sighing, I picked up my journal and went into my room. A dry, warm breeze caressed my face. I cleaned the rest of the dust, but I only wiped away half of Margg’s message. She had been right in a way. The noose did wait for me. A normal life was not in my future. Her message would serve as a reminder to me to not get too comfortable.

I was either going to screw up and be replaced as the food taster, or I was going to foil an assassination attempt with my own death. I might not technically die from a broken neck, but the haunting image of an empty noose would always plague me.

The next morning I hovered outside Dilana’s workroom. She sat in a small patch of sunlight, humming and sewing. Her golden curls gleamed. Unwilling to disturb her, I turned to go.

“Yelena?” she called.

I stepped back into view.

“My goodness, girl, just come in. You’re always welcome.” Dilana put her sewing down, and patted the chair next to her. When I joined her in the sunlight, she exclaimed, “You’re as thin as my finest thread. Sit. Sit. Let me get you something to eat.”

My protests didn’t stop her from bringing me a large slice of buttered bread.

“My Rand sends me a steaming loaf of honey bread every morning.” Her light brown eyes glowed with affection.

I knew she would stand over me until I took a bite. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I suppressed my desire to taste the bread for poisons. Only when my mouth was full was she satisfied.

“How can I help you?” she asked.

Between bites, I asked about nightclothes.

“My goodness! How could I have forgotten? You poor dear.” She bustled around the room, assembling quite a collection.

“Dilana,” I said to stop her. “I only need a few things.”

“Why didn’t you come sooner? Margg should have said something to me.” Dilana was genuinely upset.

“Margg,” I began, then quit. I wasn’t sure how Dilana felt about her.

“Margg’s a mean old grump, a spiteful hag and an overgrown bully,” Dilana declared.

I blinked at her in surprise.

“She instantly dislikes anyone new, and she’s basically a plague on the rest of us.”

“But she was nice to you.”

“She hounded me for weeks after I first arrived. Then I snuck into her wardrobe and tightened all her skirts. It took her two weeks of physical discomfort to figure out what was happening.” Dilana swooped down next to me, smiling. “Margg can’t sew a stitch, so she had to tuck in her pride and ask for my help. Since then she’s treated me with respect.”

Dilana grabbed my hand in hers. “Unfortunately, you’re her new target. But don’t let her get to you. If Margg’s nasty, be nasty right back. When she sees you’re not easy prey, she’ll lose interest.”

I had trouble believing that this lovely woman was capable of such underhandedness, but her smile held a glimmer of mischief.

She draped a pile of nightclothes over my arms, and added an array of brightly colored ribbons.

“For the festival, my dear,” she said, answering my quizzical look. “To augment your beautiful dark hair.”

“Have you found a fugitive for the exercise?” the Commander asked Valek as soon as Valek arrived in his office for lunch.

I was tasting the Commander’s food when Valek once again destroyed my tentative sense of well-being. Granted, I had been working as the official food taster for the last ten days, but my stomach had finally stopped its painful contractions whenever I was near the Commander.

“Yes. I know the perfect person for the job.” Valek settled into the chair facing the Commander.

“Who?”

“Yelena.”

“What!” Having given up all pretense of minding my own business, my exclamation echoed the Commander’s.

“Explain,” the Commander ordered.

Valek smiled at his reaction as though he knew all along what the Commander would say. “My people are trained to avoid capture. Assigning one of them wouldn’t be fair to the search party. Therefore, we need a person not skilled in the art of evasion, but who is intelligent enough to bring some challenge to the exercise.”

Valek stood to continue his lecture. “The fugitive needs an incentive for a good chase, yet must return to the castle. I can’t use a real prisoner. None of the servants have any imagination. I briefly considered the medic, but she’s needed here in case of emergencies. I was about to assign one of your soldiers when I thought of Yelena.”

Valek gestured toward me. “She’s smart.” He counted with his fingers to emphasize his words. “She’ll have an incentive to perform well, and an incentive to return.”

“Incentives?” A frown creased the Commander’s face.

“The food taster receives no wages. But for this extra job, and others like it in the future, she can be paid. The longer she evades capture, the higher the payment. As for the incentive to return, that should be obvious.”

It was to me. The daily antidote to Butterfly’s Dust kept me alive. If I didn’t return to the castle by the next morning, they would be searching for a corpse.

“And if I refuse?” I asked Valek.

“I’ll recruit one of the soldiers. But I’ll be disappointed. I thought you would appreciate the challenge.”

“Maybe I don’t…”

“Enough.” The Commander’s voice was curt. “It’s preposterous, Valek.”

“That’s the whole point. A soldier would make predictable moves. She’s an unknown.”

“You might outguess our fugitive, but the people I’ve assigned to the exercise aren’t that quick. I’m hoping to find someone who can be trained as your assistant. I understand what you’re waiting for, but I don’t believe it’ll happen anytime soon. We need someone now.” The Commander sighed. It was the most emotion I’d witnessed from him. “Valek, why do you constantly undermine my orders to instruct an assistant?”

“Because so far I have disagreed with your choices. When the suitable candidate appears, then all efforts to train him will be fully endorsed.”

The Commander glanced at the tray in my hands. Taking the food, he ordered me to fetch some hot tea. A thinly disguised ruse to be rid of me while they argued. I was more than happy to oblige.

On my way to the kitchen, I mulled over the possibility of playing fugitive for Valek. My first reaction had been negative; I didn’t need any more problems. But as I contemplated the challenge of eluding searchers, combined with the chance to earn some money, the exercise started to look like an excellent opportunity. By the time I reached the kitchen, I hoped Valek would win. Especially since I would be outside the castle for a day, and any skills I learned from being a fugitive might prove useful in the future.

“Something wrong with lunch?” Rand asked, hurrying toward me, concern pulling the corners of his mouth tight.

“No. Just need some hot tea.”

Relief softened his face. I wondered why he was so worried that lunch had been unsatisfactory. An image of a younger Rand rebelling against the Commander by ruining food as a form of sabotage entered my mind. I dismissed the thought. Rand wouldn’t serve inferior food; his ego centered on his edible creations. There must be something else between him and the Commander. Uncertain that our new relationship would survive asking personal, perhaps sensitive, questions, I held my tongue.

I’d known Rand for almost two weeks now, but I still hadn’t figured him out. His moods ran the gamut and changed without notice. Rand liked to talk. He dominated most conversations and asked only a few personal questions. I doubted he really heard my answers before he rambled on again.

“While you’re here,” Rand said, pulling a white cake from one of the cooling racks that hung on the wall like shelves, “can you try this? Let me know what you think.”

He cut me a slice. Iced with whipped cream, the layers of vanilla cake were separated by a mixture of raspberries and cream.

I tried to mask that my first bite tasted for poison. “Good combination of flavors,” I said.

“It’s not perfect, but I can’t pinpoint the problem.”

“The cream is a little too sweet,” I said, taking another bite. “And the cake is slightly dry.”

“I’ll try again. Will you come back tonight?”

“Why?”

“I need an expert opinion. It’s my entry for the fire festival’s baking contest. Are you going?”

“I’m not sure.” When I had mentioned the festival the other night, Valek hadn’t said that I couldn’t go.

“A bunch of us from the kitchen are going. You can come with us if you want.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

On my way back to the Commander’s office, an unpleasant thought wove its way into my mind. I had been staying close to Valek because Brazell was still in the castle and wasn’t slated to leave until after the festival. If I played fugitive, what would happen if Brazell found out? What if I accidentally encountered him at the festival?

Coming to the conclusion that I was safer within the castle walls until Brazell left, I decided to decline both Valek’s and Rand’s offers. But by the time I delivered the tea to the Commander, Valek had already won his argument. He quoted cash incentives to me before I could say a word.

The sum for remaining “free” for an entire day was a large amount.

“The exercise is scheduled to take place during the fire festival. A busy time for the soldiers. Should we postpone it until after?” Valek asked the Commander.

“No. The added commotion will increase the level of difficulty for our pursuers.”

“Well, Yelena, that gives you only a few days to prepare. Fair enough, since some prisoners plan an escape route, while others see an opportunity and bolt. Are you interested in the challenge?” Valek asked.

“Yes.” The word sprang from my gut before the rational “no” in my mind could escape. “On the condition that Brazell not be informed of my participation.”

“Isn’t having a room in my personal suite an indication that I’m properly concerned with your well-being?” Valek’s voice huffed. I realized that I had insulted him.

When I had offended Rand, I quickly tried to make amends. With Valek, I tried to think of another comment to annoy him further, but I couldn’t produce one that quick.

“Speaking of Brazell,” the Commander interrupted. “He gave me a gift. A new dessert that his chef invented. He thought I might like it.”

Commander Ambrose showed us a wooden box full of thick, brown squares stacked on top of each other like tiles. They were smooth and shiny, but the edges looked as if they had been cut with a dull knife, ragged and shedding brown flakes.

Valek picked up a piece and sniffed it. “I hope you didn’t try any.”

“It’s too blatant, even for Brazell, to be poisoned. But, no. I didn’t.”

Valek handed the container to me. “Yelena, take some pieces out at random and taste them.”

I sorted through the squares and selected four. They were each about the size of my thumbnail and all four fit on the palm of my hand. If I hadn’t been told they were a dessert, I probably would have guessed they were pieces of brown candle wax. My fingernail left an impression on the top, and my fingertips felt slightly greasy after handling them.

I hesitated. These were from Brazell, and I didn’t remember his cook being especially inventive. I shrugged off my trepidation. I had no choice.

Thinking wax, I anticipated tasting wax. I bit into the hard cube expecting it to crumble between my teeth. It must have been the expression on my face that caused the Commander to rise, because I didn’t say a word. The sensations in my mouth had me enraptured.

Instead of crumbling, the dessert melted, coating my tongue with a cascade of flavor. Sweet, bitter, nutty and fruity tastes followed one another. Just when I thought I could say it was one, I would taste them all again. This was unlike anything I had ever encountered. Before I knew it, all four cubes were gone. I longed for more.

“Unbelievable! What is it?”

Valek and the Commander exchanged puzzled looks.

The Commander said, “Brazell called it Criollo. Why? Is there poison in it?”

“No. No poisons. It’s just…” The proper words to describe it failed me. “Try it,” was all I could manage.

I watched the Commander’s face as he bit into one of the squares. His eyes widened and his eyebrows arched in surprise. His tongue dashed along his lips and teeth as he tried to suck all the remaining flavor from them. He grabbed another piece.

“It’s sweet. Different. But I don’t taste anything unbelievable about it,” Valek said, wiping the brown flakes from his hands.

It was my turn to exchange looks with the Commander. Unlike Valek, he had an appetite for fine cuisine. He recognized excellence when he tasted it.

“I’ll bet that little rat won’t last an hour,” Margg’s muffled voice said through the kitchen door. I had been about to enter when I had heard her.

“I’ll give fifty to one to anyone stupid enough to think the rat’ll last the day. And one hundred to one to the sucker who thinks she won’t be caught.” After Margg called the odds, the room erupted with sounds of betting.

I listened with growing horror. Margg couldn’t be talking about me. Why would Valek tell Margg about the exercise? It’d be all over the castle by tomorrow. Brazell would find out.

“I’ll bet a month’s wages that Yelena stays free all day,” Rand’s voice boomed out. The rest of the kitchen staff grew quiet.

My emotions seesawed from betrayal to pride. They were betting on me, and I couldn’t believe Rand had bet a month’s wages. He had more confidence in me than I did in myself. I tended to agree with Margg on this one.

Margg’s laughter echoed on the tiled walls. “You’ve been in the kitchen too long, Rand. The heat’s cooked your brain to mush. I think you’re starting to like the little rat. Better lock up your knives when she’s here or she may…”

“All right, that’s enough,” Rand said. “Dinner’s over. Everyone out of my kitchen.”

I moved down the hallway and out of sight. Since I had promised Rand I would taste his cake, I looped back to the kitchen after everyone had gone. Rand was sitting at one of the tables chopping nuts. There was a slice of his raspberry-and-cream cake on the table.

He pushed the plate to me. I tasted it.

“Much better. The cake is incredibly moist. What’s different?” I asked.

“I added pudding to the batter.”

Rand was unusually quiet. He didn’t mention the betting. I wasn’t going to ask.

He finished chopping the nuts. After cleaning up, he said, “I better get some sleep. We’re going to the festival tomorrow night. Are you coming?”

“Who’s going?” I stalled. I hated to miss out on the first night of the festival. Hated to let Brazell ruin the only fun I’d have. Although, if Margg was going as well, I’d stay with my original decision.

“Porter, Sammy, Liza and maybe Dilana.” Rand’s tired eyes lit up ever so slightly when he said Dilana’s name. “Why?”

“When are you leaving?” Again my heart was ready to overrule the logical and safe choice.

“After dinner. It’s the only time everyone is free. The Commander always orders an easy meal for the first night of festival so the kitchen staff can leave early. If you want to come, just meet us here tomorrow.”

Rand headed to his rooms, which were adjacent to the kitchen, and I went back to Valek’s suite.

The dark apartment was empty. Locking the door, I groped around and found some flint. As I lit the lanterns, I passed by Valek’s desk and noticed a paper lying on top. Glancing around to make sure Valek wasn’t hiding in the shadows, I looked at the sheet. Names had been written on it, and then scratched out. My name had been circled. Underneath was the comment that I would make a perfect fugitive for the exercise.

This was probably how Margg had known. I remembered seeing her reading papers in Valek’s office before. Depending on how long these papers had been here, she could have known for a while. That woman was going to get me killed. If I survived long enough, I’d have to face her. Unfortunately, it would have to wait until after I played fugitive for Valek.

As for my escape plan, I searched through Valek’s piles of books. I remembered seeing some appropriate titles, and I was rewarded by finding two on the techniques of pursuit, and one on the best ways to elude capture. Nobody said I couldn’t do a little research. Borrowing Valek’s texts, I took a lantern and retired to my room.

I studied the books until my vision blurred with fatigue. Changing into my new nightclothes, I extinguished the lantern and collapsed into bed.

I was jolted awake by the frightening awareness that someone was in my room. Instant, sweat-soaked fear gripped me. A black shape loomed over me. Yanked out of bed, I slammed into the wall. One, two, three gasps passed. Nothing more happened. The assault had stopped, but I remained pinned.

My eyes adjusted to the dark. I recognized my attacker’s face. “Valek?

11

VALEK’S FACE, INCHES FROM mine, resembled a statue, silent, cold and devoid of emotion. My door had been left ajar, and even the faint glow of lantern light slipping through the gap at the threshold couldn’t lend his blue eyes any warmth.

“Valek, what’s wrong?”

Without warning, he released me. Too late I realized that he had held me suspended above the floor. I landed in a heap at his feet. Wordless, Valek left my room. I staggered upright, feeling as if I had too many arms and legs, and managed to catch up to him in the living room. He stood in front of his desk.

“If this is about the books…” I said to his back, guessing that he was angry with me for borrowing his manuals.

He turned. “Books? You think this is about books?” His voice held amazement for a brief moment before it turned sharp and cutting. “I’ve been a fool. All this time I admired your survival instincts and intelligence. But now…” He paused, and then looked around the room as if searching for the right words.

“I overheard some servants discussing you as the fugitive. They were placing wagers. How could you be so stupid, so indiscreet? I considered killing you now to save myself the trouble of hunting for your dead body later.”

“I didn’t tell a soul.” I allowed anger to color my voice. “How can you think I would jeopardize my own life?”

“Why should I believe you? The only other person who knew was the Commander.”

“Well, Valek, you’re the spymaster. Couldn’t someone have overheard the conversation? Who else has access to this room? You left your notes in full view on your desk.” Before he could leap to another wrong conclusion, I hurried on. “They were conspicuous. If I noticed them with just a quick glance, then they begged for inspection to someone seeking information.”

“What are you saying? Who are you accusing?”

A ridge of flesh grew above Valek’s nose as his eyebrows pinched together. Alarm flashed across his face before being doused by his stone guise. His fleeting expression told me a great deal. Either Valek had been so convinced that I had gossiped to the servants that he hadn’t considered other options, or he couldn’t accept the possibility of a breach in his security. For once I had thrown him off balance, if only for a second. Someday I would dearly love to see him in an ungainly heap at my feet.

“I have my suspicions,” I said. “But I’ll accuse nobody without proof. It’s unfair, and who would believe me?”

“No one.” Valek snatched a gray rock from his desk and hurled it toward me.

Stunned, I froze as the stone whizzed past and exploded on the wall behind me. Gray debris pelted my shoulder and rained to the floor.

“Except me.” He sank into a chair. “Either I’m addicted to risk or you’re starting to make sense and we have a leak. An informer, a gossip, a mole. Whoever he is, we need to find him.”

“Or her.”

Valek frowned. “Do we play it safe and find another fugitive? Or cancel the exercise? Or continue as planned and make you both fugitive and bait? Enticing our spy to reveal himself.” He grimaced. “Or herself.”

“You don’t think Brazell will come after me?”

“No. It’s too soon. I don’t expect Brazell to try to kill you before his factory is up and running. Once he gets what he wants, then it’s going to get interesting around here.”

“Oh good. I can barely stay awake now from all the boredom.” My voice dripped with sarcasm. Only Valek would consider an attempt on my life a fascinating diversion.

He ignored my remark. “It’s your choice, Yelena.”

My choice wasn’t contained in one of Valek’s scenarios. My choice was to be someplace where my life wasn’t in danger. My choice was to be where I didn’t have an assassin for a boss, and some unknown person trying to make my already intense life even more complicated. My choice was freedom.

I sighed. The safer course of action was the most tempting, but it wouldn’t solve anything. I had learned the hard way that avoiding problems didn’t work. Run and hide were my trademark impulses, which only led to being trapped in a corner with no recourse other than to blindly strike out.

The results were not always favorable. The lack of control unnerving. My survival instinct seemed to have a mind of its own. Magic. The word floated at the edge of my mind. No. Someone would have noticed by now. Someone would have reported me. Or would he if that someone was Brazell? Or Reyad?

I shook my head, banishing the thoughts. It was in the past. I had more immediate concerns. “Okay. I’ll dangle on the hook to see what fish swims out. But who’s going to hold the net?”

“I will.”

I let out a slow breath. The tight feeling around my stomach eased.

“Don’t alter your plans. I’ll take care of everything.” Valek picked up the paper with my name on it. He dipped the corner of the page into a lantern, setting it on fire. “I should probably follow you to the fire festival tomorrow night. Unless logic has made you decide to turn down Rand’s offer and stay in the castle.” He let the burning paper float to the floor.

“How did you—” I stopped. I wasn’t going to ask. It was well known that he didn’t trust Rand, so I shouldn’t be surprised that Valek had an informant in the kitchen.

Valek hadn’t said I couldn’t go. I made a sudden decision. “I’m going. It’s a risk. So what? I take a risk every time I sip the Commander’s tea. At least this time I might get a chance to enjoy myself.”

“It’s hard to have fun at the festival without money.” Valek crushed the dying embers of the paper under his boot.

“I’ll manage.”

“Would you like an advance on your wage as fugitive?”

“No. I’ll earn the money.” I didn’t want Valek to do me any favors. I was unprepared for thoughtfulness from him. For Valek to soften even a little might destroy our strange tug-of-war relationship, and I was reluctant for it to alter. Besides, thinking kind thoughts about Valek could be extremely dangerous. I could admire his skills, and be relieved when he was on my side in a fight. But for a rat to like the cat? That scenario ended only one way. With one dead rat.

“Suit yourself,” Valek said. “But let me know if you change your mind. And don’t concern yourself about the books. Read all the books you want.”

Heading back to my room, I paused with my hand resting on the doorknob. “Thanks,” I spoke to the door, unwilling to look at Valek.

“For the books?”

“No. The offer.” My eyes traced the wood grain.

“You’re welcome.”

The castle hummed with activity. Smiling servants rushed through the corridors, laughter echoed off the stone walls. It was the first day of the fire festival, and the castle’s staff hurried to complete their chores so they could attend the opening celebration. Their excitement was contagious, and even after a restless night of sleep, I was beginning to feel like a child again. Determined to push the ugly image of someone stalking me at the festival to a far, dark corner of my mind, I allowed myself to savor the anticipation of the evening’s events.

I fidgeted through an afternoon lesson with Valek. He was trying to teach me how to spot a tail. It was mostly commonsense advice, and some techniques that I had already read about in one of his books, and my mind wandered. I wasn’t planning on looking over my shoulder all night. Sensing my mood, Valek ended the session early.

Soon after, I grabbed a clean uniform and the colored ribbons Dilana had given me and headed toward the baths. At this time of day, the steaming pools were empty. I washed fast, and sank into one of the baths. Inching my way into the hot liquid, I let each muscle relax, oohing and aahing until the water reached my neck.

Only when the skin on my fingers began to wrinkle did I leave the water. I had been avoiding the mirror for a month. Now, curious, I scanned my reflection. Not as skeletal, although I needed to gain some more weight. My cheeks were hollow and my ribs and hipbones poked through my flesh. What had once been dull, uncombable black hair now shone. The scar on my right elbow had turned from bright red to a deep purple.

Swallowing, I looked far into the mirror. Had my soul returned? No. Instead, I saw Reyad’s smirking ghost floating behind me, but when I turned around he was gone. I wondered what Reyad wanted. Revenge most likely, but how would you confront a ghost? I decided not to worry about it tonight.

Changing into a clean uniform, I braided the brightly colored ribbons into my hair, I let the ends fall past my shoulders and loosely down my back.

When I reported to the Commander to taste his dinner, I expected a tart comment on my unmilitary hairstyle. All I received was one raised eyebrow.

After dinner, I raced to the kitchen. Rand greeted me with a huge smile. The staff was still cleaning, so I helped scrub the countertops and floors to avoid the awkwardness of just standing around waiting. Rand reigned over an immaculate kitchen, and only when the kitchen was spotless was the staff dismissed.

While Rand changed out of his stained uniform, I watched a small group of people talking among themselves as they waited for him. I knew them all by sight and reputation, but hadn’t spoken to any of them. Occasionally, one or two glanced warily in my direction. I suppressed a sigh, trying not to let their nerves bother me. I couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t a secret that I had killed Reyad.

Of the group, Porter was the oldest. He was in charge of the Commander’s kennels. Another holdover from the King’s reign, he had been deemed too valuable to be replaced. He scowled more than he smiled, and Rand was his only friend. Rand had told me stories about Porter in an “I can’t believe anyone would believe such nonsense” tone of voice, but wild rumors that Porter had mental links with the dogs made him an outcast.

The uncanny way the dogs responded and understood Porter seemed abnormal. Almost magical. The suspicion of magic was enough for everyone to treat Porter like he had a contagious disease. Still no one had proof, and his rapport with the animals was useful. Something the Commander prized.

Sammy was Rand’s fetch boy. A thin child of twelve, his sole purpose was to obtain anything Rand needed. I’d seen Rand yell at Sammy then hug him in the space of a heartbeat.

Liza was a quiet woman only a few years older than me. She was the castle’s pantler, in charge of the pantry’s inventory. Liza plucked at her uniform sleeve like she was nervous, but I guessed talking with Porter was better than being near me.

When Rand emerged from his rooms, we left the castle. Sammy raced ahead of the group, too excited to stay with us for very long. Porter and Liza continued their discussion, while Rand and I trailed behind.

The night air was refreshing. I could smell the clean scent of damp earth tinged with the distant aroma of wood smoke. It was my first trip outside in almost a year, and before we went past the gate in the immense, stone buttress that surrounded the castle complex, I peered back. Without a moon it was too dark to see any detail besides the few lighted windows and the towering walls. The complex appeared deserted. If Valek followed, I couldn’t spot him.

When we cleared the gate, a breeze greeted us as the day’s hot air cooled. I walked with my arms held slightly away from my body, allowing the air to flow past me. My uniform rippled in the wind and my hair blew. I inhaled, enjoying the fresh evening scent. We walked through the grass field that surrounded the guard walls. No buildings were permitted within a quarter mile of the castle. The town, once named for Queen Jewel, was renamed Castletown after the takeover. Jewelstown had been built by the King in the valley south of the castle complex as a gift for his wife.

The fire festival’s tents had been set up in the fields just west of Castletown.

“Isn’t Dilana coming?” I asked Rand.

“She’s already there. Some big emergency came up this afternoon. When the dancers opened the costume boxes they discovered that some animal had eaten holes in all of the outfits. They called Dilana to help mend them before the opening ceremony.” Rand laughed. “I bet the panic that reigned after they opened the boxes would have been fun to watch.”

“Fun for you, but not for the poor woman in charge of costumes.”

“True.” Now silent, he limped beside me. Because of our slower pace, we fell farther behind the others.

“Where’s your cake?” I hoped I hadn’t ruined his good mood.

“Sammy ran it down this morning. The baking contest is judged on the first day so they can sell the entries while they’re fresh. I want to check the results. How come you’re not entering any competitions?”

A simple question. One of many about the festival that I had been avoiding with some success since Rand and I became friends. At first I suspected his interest to be an attempt to gain some insider information for the next round of betting. But now that the gambling was finished, I realized his interest was genuine.

“No money for the entry fees,” I said. The truth, but not the entire story. I would need to completely trust Rand before I would tell him about my history with the fire festival.

Rand clucked his tongue in disgust. “It doesn’t make sense not to pay the food taster. Otherwise, what better way to obtain information about the Commander than to bribe the taster?” He paused, then turned to me, his face serious. “Would you sell information for money?”

12

I SHIVERED AT RAND’S QUESTION. Was he asking just to ask or was he offering to pay me for information? I imagined Valek’s reaction if he discovered that I had taken a bribe. Having no money was better than facing his wrath.

“No. I wouldn’t,” I said.

Rand grunted. We walked in an unnatural silence for a while. I wondered if Oscove, the old food taster, had taken money for information. It would explain why Valek hadn’t liked him and why Rand suspected Valek of killing Oscove.

“If you’d like, I’ll pay the entry fee for you. Your help has been invaluable, and I’ve certainly won enough money on your resourcefulness,” Rand said.

“Thanks, but I’m not prepared. It’d be a waste of money.” Besides, I was determined to enjoy the festival without money just to prove to Valek that it could be done.

Despite promising myself I wouldn’t, I glanced back over my shoulder. Nothing. I tried to convince myself that not seeing Valek was a good thing. If I could spot him, then anyone could. Still, the nagging feeling that maybe he had decided to let me take my chances wouldn’t quit. Stop it, I told myself. Don’t worry. Then again, I’d be an idiot to walk around the festival blind to danger.

I felt as if I balanced on a high wire, trying not to fall. Could I watch for trouble and have fun at the same time? I didn’t know, but was determined to try.

“Which competition would you have entered?” Rand asked.

Before I could answer, he waved his hands in front of me. “No! Don’t tell me! I want to guess.”

I smiled. “Go ahead.”

“Let’s see. Small, thin and graceful. A dancer?”

“Try again.”

“Okay. You remind me of a pretty bird, willing to sit on the windowsill as long as nobody comes too close, but prepared to fly away if somebody does. A songbird. Perhaps you’re a singer?”

“You’ve obviously never heard me sing. Are all your guesses going to come with a lengthy discussion of my personality?” I asked.

“No. Now be quiet, I’m trying to think.”

The glow from the festival was growing brighter. I heard the distant buzz of music, animals and people blended together.

“Long, thin fingers. Maybe you’re a member of a spinning team?” Rand guessed.

“What’s a spinning team?”

“Usually there’s one shearer, one carder, one spinner and one weaver in a team. You know, sheep to shawl. The teams race to see who can shear a sheep’s wool and turn it into a garment first. It’s pretty amazing to watch.” Rand studied me for a while. I began to wonder if he had run out of guesses.

“A jockey?”

“Do you really think I could afford to buy a racehorse?” I asked in amazement. Only the very wealthy citizens had horses to race for sport. The military used horses for the transportation of high-ranking officers and advisers only. Everyone else walked.

“People who own racehorses don’t ride them. They hire jockeys. And you’re the perfect size, so stop looking at me like I’m daft.”

As we arrived at the first of the massive multicolored tents, our conversation ceased as we absorbed the frenzied activity and panoramic sights that assaulted us. When I was younger, I used to stand amid the chaos and feast on the energy of the fire festival. I had always thought the name of the festival was perfect, not because it occurred during the hot season, but because the sounds and smells pulsated like heat waves, making my blood sizzle and pop. Now, after spending close to a year in a dungeon, I felt the force slamming into me as though I were a brick wall. A wall whose mortar threatened to crumble from the overload of sensations.

Torches blazed and bonfires burned. We walked into a slice of captured daylight. The performance and competition tents were scattered throughout the festival, with small open stands tucked in and around them like children clinging to their mothers’ skirts. From exotic gems to flyswatters, the merchants sold an array of goods. The aroma of food cooking made my stomach grumble as we passed several barbecue pits, and I regretted having skipped dinner in my haste to get here.

Entertainers, contestants, spectators and laughing children ebbed and flowed around us. Sometimes the press of people hurried us along from behind and sometimes we struggled to go forward. We had lost track of the others. If he hadn’t linked his arm in mine, I probably would have been separated from Rand as well. Distractions peppered the festival. I would have followed the lively music to its source or lingered to watch a skit, but Rand was determined to see the results of the baking contest.

As we moved, I examined faces in the crowd, searching for green-and-black uniforms even though Valek had said Brazell wouldn’t be a threat. I thought it prudent to avoid him and his guards altogether. Unsure of who I was looking for, I watched for unusual faces. It was the wrong way to detect a tail. Valek had taught me that the best agents were unremarkable in appearance and didn’t draw attention to themselves. But I figured if a skilled spy followed me, my chances of spotting him or her was small.

We met up with Porter and Liza in a small tent filled with a sweet aroma that made my stomach ache with hunger. They were talking to a large man in a cook’s uniform, but they stopped when we entered. Surrounding Rand, they congratulated him on his first-place win. The heavy man declared that Rand had broken a festival record by winning five years in a row.

While Rand examined the array of baked goods lining the shelves, I asked the man who had won in Military District 5. I was curious if Brazell’s cook had won with his Criollo recipe. The man’s brow creased with concentration, causing his short, curly black hair to touch his thick eyebrows.

“Bronda won it with a heavenly lemon pie. Why?”

“I thought General Brazell’s chef, Ving, might win. I used to work at the manor.”

“Well, Ving won two years ago with some cream pie and now he enters the same pie each year, hoping it’ll win again.”

I thought it odd that he hadn’t entered his Criollo, but before I could deduce a reason, Rand jubilantly swept us out of the tent. He wanted to buy everyone a glass of wine to celebrate his victory.

We sipped our wine and wandered around the festival. Sammy materialized on occasion from the crowd to report some wonder with great delight, only to rush off again.

Twice I spotted a woman with a serious expression. Her black hair was pulled into a tight bun. Wearing the uniform of a hawk mistress, she moved with the grace of someone used to physical exercise. The second time I saw her she was much closer, and I made eye contact. Her almond-shaped, emerald eyes narrowed, staring boldly back at me until I looked away. There was something familiar about her, and it was some time before I figured it out.

She reminded me of the children in Brazell’s care, and was more similar to my own coloring than to the pale ivory complexion of most of the Territory’s people. Her skin was bronze. Not tanned from the sun but a natural pigmentation.

Then our aimless group was snared in a flow of spectators heading into a big red-and-white-striped tent. It was the acrobatics tent, where trampolines, tightropes and floor mats were covered with brightly costumed men and women. They were all trying to pass the qualifying round. I watched as one man performed a beautiful series of flips on the tightrope, only to be disqualified when he fell during his solo tumbling run.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rand watching me. His expression triumphant.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re an acrobat!”

“I was an acrobat.”

Rand waved his hands. “Doesn’t matter. I was right!”

It mattered to me. Reyad had tainted acrobatics. The time when I felt satisfaction and enjoyment from performing was gone, and I couldn’t imagine getting any happiness from it now.

From the benches in the tent, our small kitchen group watched the contestants. Grunts of effort, sweat-soaked costumes and thumping feet made me long for the days when all that worried me was finding time to practice.

Four of us in Brazell’s orphanage had taken up acrobatics. We had scavenged and begged for materials to set up a practice area behind the stables. Our mistakes sent us crashing to the grass until the stable master took pity on our bruised bodies. One day we arrived to find a thick coating of dung-scented straw carpeting our practice area.

Brazell’s teachers had encouraged us to discover something we could excel in. While some found singing or dancing to be their calling, I had been fascinated by the acrobatic displays since my first fire festival.

Despite hours of practice, I failed during the qualifying round at my inaugural competition. The disappointment stabbed my heart, but I healed the ache with resolve. I spent the next year covered with black-and-blue marks, nursing sprains too numerous to count. When the festival returned, I passed the qualifiers and the initial round only to fall off the tightrope in the second. Each year I worked hard and advanced steadily. I won through to the final round the year before Brazell and Reyad claimed me as their laboratory rat.

Brazell and Reyad didn’t allow me to practice acrobatics, but that didn’t stop me from slipping away whenever Reyad was on some mission for his father. What did stop me was getting caught by Reyad a week before the festival, when he arrived home early from a trip. I was concentrating so hard that I failed to notice him astride his horse until I finished my tumbling routine. His expression, a mixture of anger and elation, caused the beads of sweat on my skin to turn into ice crystals.

For disobeying his orders, I was forbidden to go to the festival that year. And as an added deterrent to disobedience, I was punished for the duration of the festival. Each evening for five nights, Reyad forced me to strip. With a cruel grin on his face, he stared at me as I stood shivering despite the warmth of the night. He draped heavy chains from a metal collar around my neck to metal cuffs on my wrists and ankles. I wanted to scream, to beat him with my fists, but I was too terrified to anger him further.

Pleasure at my fear and humiliation made his face flush as he drove me with a small whip to perform acrobatics of his own devising. A lashing sting on my skin was the reprimand for moving too slow. The chains battered my body as they swung with my movements. Their weight dragged at my limbs, making each tumble an exhausting ordeal. The cuffs began to rub my wrists and ankles raw. Blood streaked down my arms and legs.

When Brazell participated in the experiments, Reyad meticulously followed his father’s instructions, but when he was alone with me the indifferent exercises turned vicious. Sometimes he would invite his friend, Mogkan, to assist him, and they made my hell a contest to see who invented the best way to test my endurance.

I was in constant fear that I would madden Reyad enough to force him to cross the only line he seemed to have drawn. For all the torture and pain he inflicted, he never raped me. So I somersaulted and cartwheeled with chains just to keep him from crossing that line.

Rand’s heavy arm fell across my shoulders. I flinched back into the present.

“Yelena! What’s wrong?” Rand’s eyes, full of concern, searched mine. “You looked like you were having a nightmare with your eyes open.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Here…” He handed me a steaming meat pie. “Sammy brought these for us.”

I thanked Sammy. When my attention focused on him, his eyes grew wide, and his young face whitened. He averted his gaze. Without thinking, I took a small bite and tasted for poison. Finding nothing, I ate and wondered what wild stories had been told about me to cause Sammy’s fearful reaction. Children Sammy’s age usually enjoyed scaring each other with imaginative horror tales.

We used to frighten ourselves at the orphanage after the lanterns had been blown out and we were in bed waiting for sleep. Whispered stories about monsters raging and magician’s curses made us gasp and giggle. We told gruesome tales about the older “graduates” of the orphanage, who just seemed to disappear. No explanation was given to us of where they were working, and we never encountered any of them in town or in the manor house. So we created horrible scenarios about their fates.

How I missed those nights with the other children when I was finally able to rest after spending a day with Reyad. He had isolated me from the others. Taken from the girls’ dorm, I had been given a small room next to Reyad’s suite. At night, with my body aching and my spirits crushed, I would lie awake and recite those tales in my mind until I fell asleep.

“Yelena, we can go.”

“What?” I looked at Rand.

“If this is upsetting you. We can go. There’s a spectacular new fire dance.”

“We can stay. I was just…reminiscing. But if you want to see the fire dance, I’ll go along.”

“Reminiscing? You must have hated being an acrobat.”

“Oh no, I loved everything about it. Flying through the air, the complete control over my body as I spun and twirled. The thrill of knowing I was going to land the perfect dismount before I even hit the ground.” I stopped. The confusion on Rand’s face made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. How could I explain to him that it wasn’t the acrobatics that upset me but the events that they had triggered? Reyad’s cruel punishment for practicing. Sneaking out to participate in the festival the following year, which had led to Reyad’s death.

I shuddered. Those memories of Reyad were like a trap in the corner of my mind, and I wasn’t ready to spring it. “Someday, Rand, I’ll explain. But for now I would like to see the fire dance.”

He hooked his arm around mine as our kitchen group left the tent and joined in the flow of people. Sammy raced ahead, shouting over his shoulder that he would save us some good seats. A drunken man bumped into me and I stumbled. He mumbled an apology and saluted me with his mug of ale. Trying to make a bow, he landed in a heap at my feet. I would have stopped to help him, but I was distracted by the appearance of blazing staffs of wood. I felt a pulsating rhythm vibrating through the soles of my feet as the fire dancers spun the flaming props around their heads and paraded into the tent. Amazed by the dancers’ intricate movements, I stepped over the drunk.

But with the excitement and press of people through the entrance, Rand’s grip was broken. I wasn’t concerned until I found myself surrounded by four immense men. Two of the men wore blacksmith’s uniforms, while the other two wore farmer’s work uniforms. Excusing myself, I tried to slip past them, but they only pressed closer, trapping me.

13

TERROR WELLED IN MY THROAT; I was in trouble. I screamed for help. A gloved hand clamped over my mouth. Biting into the leather, I tasted ashes, but couldn’t reach skin. The blacksmiths grabbed my arms and pushed me forward, while the farmers walked in front, blocking me from sight. In all the commotion around the dance tent, nobody noticed my abduction.

I struggled, dragged my feet and kicked. Their pace never slowed. I was lugged farther away from the lights and safety of the festival. Craning my neck, I looked for a way to escape. The blacksmith next to me moved closer to block my meager view. His thick beard was filled with soot and half of it had been singed off.

We stopped behind a dark tent. The farmers stepped aside and I saw a shadow pull away from the fabric.

“Did anyone notice? Did anyone follow you?” the shadow asked with a woman’s voice.

“It went perfect. Everyone was focused on the dancers,” the blacksmith with the leather gloves replied.

“Good. Kill her now,” the woman ordered.

A knife flashed in Leather Gloves’s hand. I renewed my struggle, managing to break free for an instant. But the farmers pinned my arms while Singed Beard grabbed my legs. They held me suspended above the ground. Leather Gloves raised his weapon.

“No knives, you idiot! Think of the bloody mess. Use this.” She handed Leather Gloves a long thin strap. In a blink the knife disappeared. He wrapped the garrote around my neck.

“Nooo…” I screamed, but my protest was cut off along with my air supply as he tightened the strap. Intense pressure squeezed my neck. I jerked my limbs in vain. White dots swirled before my eyes. A faint buzzing sound dribbled from my lips. Too faint; the survival instinct that had saved me from Brazell’s guards and Reyad’s torture was too weak this time.

Over the roar of blood in my ears, I heard the woman say, “Hurry up! She’s starting to project.”

Ready to step off the edge of consciousness, a drunken voice said, “Excuse me, sirs, do you know where I can get a refill?”

The pressure on my neck lessened as Leather Gloves drew his knife. I let my body go limp and was rewarded by being dumped on the ground. The other three men stepped over me to face the intruder. Suppressing the urge to gasp for breath, I sucked in air with desperation. I muffled my efforts, unwilling to let anyone know I could still breathe.

From my new position, I saw Leather Gloves lunge toward the drunk. The clang of metal rang through the air as the knife stabbed into the man’s pewter beer mug instead of his chest. With a hard jerk of his wrist, the mug blurred into motion. The knife flew through the air, imbedding into the fabric of the tent. Then the drunk struck Leather Gloves on the head with the mug. Leather Gloves crumpled to the ground.

The others, mere steps away when their companion went down, rushed the intruder. The farmers grabbed his upper arms and shoulders while Singed Beard punched him twice in the face. Using the farmers to support his weight, the drunk lifted both legs off the ground and wrapped them around Singed Beard’s neck. With a loud snap, Singed Beard fell.

Still clutching his mug, the drunk swung it to the right into one farmer’s groin. As the farmer doubled over, the drunk brought the mug up, smashing it into the farmer’s face.

Then the intruder swept his beer mug to the left and slammed it into the other farmer’s nose. Blood gushing, the farmer yelped in pain and released his grip on the drunk. The drunk launched a second blow to the farmer’s temple. The farmer collapsed to the ground without a sound.

The fight had lasted seconds. The woman hadn’t moved at all, her intent gaze had been focused on the skirmish. Recognizing her as the dark-skinned woman I had spotted twice before at the festival, I wondered what she would do now that her goons were beaten.

Regaining some strength, I contemplated my odds of reaching the knife in the tent before she did. The drunk wiped blood off his face. Bodies were littered around his feet.

I tried to stand on shaky legs. The woman’s head snapped toward me as if she had forgotten I was there. Then she started to sing. Her sweet, melodious tune wound its way through my mind. Relax, it said, lie down, be still. Yes, I thought as I sank back down. My body mellowed. I felt as if she were tucking me into bed, drawing the blanket up to my chin. But then the blanket was yanked over my head, pushing against my mouth and nose, suffocating me.

I thrashed, wildly clawing my face to remove the imaginary blanket. Out of nowhere, Valek appeared before me, yelling in my ear, shaking my shoulders. Stupidly, belatedly, I realized he was the drunk. Who else but Valek could win a fight against four large men when armed only with a beer mug?

“Recite poisons in your mind!” Valek shouted.

I ignored him. Lassitude overcame me. I ceased fighting. All I wanted to do was sink into the darkness and follow the music to its depths.

“Recite! Now! That’s an order!”

Habit saved me. Without thought, I obeyed Valek. Names of poisons marched through my mind. The music stopped. The pressure on my face eased, and I could breathe again. I gasped noisily.

“Keep reciting,” he said.

The woman and the knife had disappeared. Valek pulled me to my feet. I swayed, but he steadied me with an arm on my shoulder. I clutched his hand for a second, suppressing the urge to throw myself sobbing into his arms. He had saved my life. When I regained my balance, Valek went back to the men. I knew Singed Beard was dead, but I was unsure of the others.

Valek turned one prone form over and cursed. “Southerners,” he said with disgust. He moved around the others, feeling for pulses. “Two alive. I’ll have them taken to the castle for questioning.”

“What about the woman?” I croaked. Talking was painful.

“Gone.”

“Will you search for her?”

Valek gave me a strange look. “Yelena, she’s a southern magician. I took my eyes off her, so there’s no way I can find her now.”

He grabbed my arm and steered me toward the festival.

My muscles trembled as the shock of the attack worked through my body. It took a while for his words to sink in.

“Magician?” I asked. “I thought they were banished from Ixia.” Killed on sight was more like it, but I couldn’t bring myself to say those words aloud.

“Although very unwelcome, some visit Ixia anyway.”

“But, I thought…”

“Not now. I’ll explain later. Right now I want you to catch up with Rand and his friends. Pretend nothing has happened. I doubt she’ll try again tonight.”

The bright firelight stabbed my eyes. Valek and I stayed in the shadows until we spotted Rand near the acrobatics tent. He was searching for me and calling my name. Valek motioned for me to join my friend.

I had taken only two steps when Valek said, “Yelena, wait.”

I turned. Valek waved me closer. When I reached him, his hand reached toward my neck. I stepped back, but recovered and stood still. His hand brushed my skin as he pulled the garrote off my throat. He handed it to me as if it was a poisonous snake. Shivering in disgust, I flung it to the ground.

Rand’s relief, when he saw me emerge from the crowd, rolled off him like a breaking wave. I hesitated. Why would he be so concerned? For all he knew, I had only been lost. I caught a sweet whiff of wine as Rand approached.

“Yelena, where have you been?” His words slurred.

I hadn’t realized he had drunk that much wine, which would explain why he had been so desperate to find me. Alcohol poisoned the mind, exaggerated the emotions.

“The tent was too crowded. I needed some air.” My voice caught on the word air as the horror of being strangled swept through me. I glanced back at the shadows. Was Valek still watching or had he gone to arrest those men? And where was the dark-skinned woman? Earlier, I had been so happy to get out of the castle, but now I wanted nothing more than to have strong stone walls around me, and to be safely back in Valek’s suite. Now, that was an odd combination, the words Valek and safe in the same thought.

“I thought I’d catch up with you later,” I lied to Rand as I scanned the festival crowd. I didn’t enjoy deceiving him. After all, he was my friend. Maybe even a good friend who had been concerned enough to search for me when I had been separated from him, and who probably would have been the only person to be upset by my murder. Despite his fight on my behalf, I was certain that Valek would have only been annoyed at having to train a new food taster.

The fire dance had just ended and people poured from the tent. The rest of the kitchen group waited outside. Dilana had joined them. Rand dropped my arm like a lump of dough and went over to her. She smiled at him, teasing him about chasing after the food taster when he had promised to meet her.

Drunkenly, he begged for her forgiveness, explaining that he couldn’t afford to lose me since I had helped him win the baking contest. She laughed. Throwing one of her heartwarming smiles my way, Dilana hugged Rand, and arm in arm they headed back to the castle.

The rest of us followed. I found myself once again last in the procession, but this time I had Liza as a companion.

She scowled at me. “I don’t know what Rand sees in you,” she said.

Not a friendly way to start a conversation. “Excuse me,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

“He missed the fire dance looking for you. And ever since you came around, the kitchen routine has been destroyed. The staff’s flustered.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Before you showed up, Rand’s mood swings were predictable. Cheerful and content when Dilana was happy and the gambling was profitable, moody and sullen when they weren’t. Then…” Liza stressed the word. Her plain cornmeal face creased into an ugly expression, which she aimed at me. “You befriend him. He starts snarling at the kitchen staff for no reason. Even winning a big payoff, Rand’s still depressed. It’s frustrating. We’ve come to the conclusion that you must be trying to steal him away from Dilana. We want you to stop, leave him alone and stay out of the kitchen.”

Liza had picked the worst time to accost me. Having just escaped a brush with death had put matters into perspective. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind. Pure rage flared; I grabbed her arm and spun her around to face me. We stood nose to nose.

“You have concluded? The combined brainpower of the kitchen staff probably couldn’t light a candle. Our friendship is none of your business. So I suggest you rethink your hypothesis. If there’s a problem in the kitchen, then deal with it. You’re wasting your time whining about it to me.” I pushed her away. I could tell by her shocked expression that she hadn’t expected such a fierce response.

Too bad for her, I thought as I hurried to catch up with the others, leaving her to walk alone. What did she want me to do? Had she assumed that I would meekly agree to stop talking to Rand just to smooth things in the kitchen? I wasn’t going to let her unload her problems on me; I was already overloaded with my own. Like why would a magician from Sitia want to kill me?

At the castle, I said good-night to Rand and Dilana and rushed to Valek’s suite. As much as I wanted to be inside, I cajoled one of the outer-door guards to check Valek’s rooms for intruders before I went in. Murder attempts combined with an overactive imagination made me jumpy, fearing ambushes. Even sitting on the couch in the middle of the living room with every lantern blazing, I didn’t feel safe until Valek arrived near dawn.

“Haven’t you slept?” he asked. A fist-size, dark purple bruise on his jaw contrasted against his pale skin.

“No. But neither have you,” I said peevishly.

“I can sleep all day. You need to taste the Commander’s breakfast in an hour.”

“What I need are answers.”

“To what questions?” Valek began to extinguish the lanterns.

“Why is a southern magician trying to kill me?”

“A good question. The very same one I was going to ask you.”

“How should I know?” I shrugged in frustration. “Brazell’s guards I could understand. But magicians! It’s not like I’ve been going around making southern magicians angry.”

“Ahhh…that’s a shame. Since you have a real talent for angering people.” Valek sat at his desk and rested his head in his hands. “A southern magician, Yelena, a master-level southern magician. Do you know that there are only four master magicians in Sitia? Four. And since the takeover, they’ve stayed in Sitia. On occasion they send a minion or two with minor magical abilities into the Territory to see what we’re up to. So far each spy has been intercepted and dealt with. Commander Ambrose will not tolerate magic in Ixia.”

The magicians of the King’s era had been considered the elite. Treated like royalty, they had been quite influential with the King. According to the history of the takeover, Valek had assassinated every one of them. I wondered how, especially since he couldn’t capture that woman tonight.

Valek stood up. He grabbed a gray rock off his desk. Tossing the stone from hand to hand, he paced around the living room.

Remembering Valek’s near miss with the last rock he’d held, I pulled my feet off the floor and hugged my knees to my chest, hoping to make myself a smaller target.

“For the southerners to risk one of their master magicians, the reason has to be…” Valek shook the stone in his hand, searching for the right word. “Momentous. So why are they after you?” He sighed and sank down on the couch next to me. “Well, let’s try to reason this out. You obviously have some southern blood in your heritage.”

“What?” I had never thought about my heritage. I had been found on the street, homeless, and been taken in by Brazell. Speculation about my parents had only been on whether they were dead or had just abandoned me. I had no memories of my life prior to my arrival at the orphanage. Mostly, I had been thankful that Brazell gave me shelter. For Valek to make such a matter-of-fact statement stunned me.

“Your coloring is a bit darker than the typical northerner. Your features have a southern quality. Green eyes are very rare in the Territory, but are more common in Sitia.” Valek misread my frozen expression. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. When the King was in power, the border to Sitia was open to commerce and trade. People moved freely between the regions, and marriages were inevitable. I would guess you were left behind right after the takeover when people panicked and fled south before we closed the border. It was complete mayhem. I don’t know what they were expecting when the Commander came to power. Mass killings? All we did was give everyone a uniform and a job.”

My mind reeled. Why hadn’t I been more curious about my family? I didn’t even know what town I had been found in. We had been told daily of our good fortune, reminded that we had food, clothes, shelter, teachers and even a small allowance. It had been repeatedly pointed out that many children with parents weren’t as well off as we were. Was it a form of brainwashing?

“Well, anyway, I digress,” Valek said into the silence. He stood and resumed his pacing. “I doubt it was missing family members. They wouldn’t want to kill you. Is there anything else, besides murdering Reyad, that you did in the past? Witnessed a crime? Overheard plans for a rebellion? Anything at all?”

“No. Nothing.”

Valek tapped the rock against his forehead. “Then let’s assume this has to do with Reyad. Perhaps he was in league with some southerners and your killing him ruined their plans. Maybe they’re scheming to retake Ixia. Or they think you know something about this plot. But I’ve heard nothing about Sitia attacking us. And why would they? Sitia knows the Commander is content to stay in the north and vice versa.” Valek rubbed a hand over his face before continuing.

“Perhaps Brazell has gotten creative in his old age and hired southerners to kill you; thereby accomplishing his desire to see you dead without implicating himself. No. That doesn’t make sense. Brazell would have hired thugs, no need for a magician. Unless he has connections I’m not aware of, which is highly doubtful.” Valek looked around the room. Only half of the lanterns had been extinguished. Setting the rock down, he finished the job just as the timid predawn light started to brighten the room.

He stopped as if he had a sudden thought and scowled at me.

“What?”

“Magicians will come north to smuggle one of their own kind to safety,” Valek said. He studied me.

Before I could protest, he asked, “Then why kill you? Unless you’re a Soulfinder, they wouldn’t want you dead.” Valek yawned and gently fingered the bruise on his face. “I’m too tired to think straight. I’m going to bed.” He walked to the stairs.

Soulfinder? I had no idea what that was, but more important concerns needed to be addressed.

“Valek.”

He paused with a foot on the first step.

“My antidote.”

“Of course.” He continued up the steps.

While he was upstairs, I wondered how many times in the future I would have to ask for the antidote. The knowledge that it was keeping me alive poisoned my mind as surely as the Butterfly’s Dust poisoned my body.

As the early morning light brightened, I thought of my bed with longing. Valek could sleep, but I had to taste the Commander’s breakfast soon.

Valek came downstairs. Handing me the antidote, he said, “You might want to wear your hair down today.”

“Why?” I ran my fingers through my hair. The ribbons I had braided were torn and knotted.

“To cover the marks on your neck.”

Before going to the Commander’s office, I hurried to the baths. I had just enough time to wash and change into a clean uniform before I had to appear at breakfast. The garrote had left a bright red ring around my neck that I couldn’t cover no matter how I styled my hair.

On my way to the Commander’s office, I saw Liza. She set her mouth in a firm frown and looked away when she passed. Oh well, I thought, another person I’d angered. I regretted having taken my ire out on her, but I wasn’t about to apologize. After all, she had started the argument.

Most mornings the Commander ignored my arrival. I would taste his breakfast, and then sort through his box of Criollo, randomly selecting a piece to verify that no one had poisoned it during the night. Each morning my mouth watered as I anticipated the taste of the bittersweet dessert. Its nutty flavor coating my mouth was the one pleasure I could look forward to during my day. I had argued with Valek that I should test it every time the Commander wanted some, but the Commander hoarded his supply. He rationed out one piece of Criollo after every meal. And I had heard through Rand that the Commander had already requested more from Brazell, along with a copy of the recipe from his cook, Ving.

Each morning after placing the Commander’s breakfast tray on his desk, I would pick up his daily schedule and leave without a word being uttered. But this morning, when I set the tray down, he told me to sit.

Perched on the edge of the hard, wooden chair facing his desk, I felt a feather of fear brush my stomach. I laced my fingers tight together to keep my face impassive.

“Valek has informed me that you had an incident last night. I’m concerned that another attempt on your life will jeopardize our exercise.” The Commander’s golden eyes regarded me as he sipped his tea. “You have presented Valek with a puzzle, and he has assured me that keeping you alive will aid in a speedy resolution. Convince me that you’ll be able to play fugitive without getting yourself killed. According to Valek, you failed to recognize him even after he bumped into you.”

My mouth opened, but I closed it as I considered his words. A hastily explained or illogical argument would not sway the Commander. Also, I had been given an easy out. Why should I risk my neck for his exercise? I wasn’t a skilled spy; I hadn’t been able to identify Valek even when I knew he was following me. But then again it was my neck the murderous assailants were after. If I didn’t try to draw them out on my own terms, they’d pick the time and location. I weighed the argument in my head, feeling as though I was forever on a tightrope, unable to decide which way led to the perfect dismount. Walking back and forth until some outside force came along to push me one way or the other.

“I’m new to the hunt-and-chase game,” I told the Commander. “For someone untrained, trying to spot a tail in a noisy, crowded festival is a difficult task. It’s like asking a child to run when she has just learned how to walk. In the woods, alone and trying to avoid everyone, picking up a tail will be easier and within my abilities.” I stopped. No response from the Commander, so I continued, “If we can lure this magician out, maybe we can discover why she wants to kill me.”

The Commander sat as still as a frog that watched and waited for a fly to come closer.

I played my last card. “And Valek has assured me he will be following.”

My use of the Commander’s word was not lost on him.

“We will proceed as planned. I don’t expect you to get far, so I doubt we’ll see this magician.” He said the word magician as if it left a foul taste in his mouth. “I do expect you to keep quiet about this entire affair. Consider it an order. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, Sir.” I left his office.

I spent the remainder of the day collecting and borrowing provisions for the exercise, which was scheduled to begin the next morning at dawn. I visited Dilana’s workroom and the smithy. Just mentioning Valek’s name produced remarkable results from the blacksmiths, who hurried to procure the items I said Valek needed.

Dilana would have given me anything I requested. She seemed disappointed that I only wanted to borrow a leather backpack.

“Keep it,” she had said. “No one has claimed it. It’s been underfoot since I started.”

I kept her company as she mended uniforms, told me the latest gossip and fussed about how I needed to eat more.

My last stop was the kitchen. With the hope of finding Rand alone, I waited until after the staff had cleaned up dinner. He was standing at a counter, working on menus. Each week’s menus had to be approved by the Commander before Rand could give them to Liza, who made sure the required food and ingredients were available.

“You look better than I feel,” Rand said in a soft tone. He held his head like a full cup of water, moving slowly as if to avoid spilling over. “I don’t have anything for you to taste today. I haven’t had the energy.”

“That’s okay.” I noted his white face and the dark smudges under his eyes. “I won’t keep you. I just need to borrow some things.”

Interested, Rand almost returned to his jovial self. “Like what?”

“Bread. And some of that glue you invented. Medic Mommy used it to seal a cut on my arm. It’s wonderful stuff.”

“The glue! One of my best recipes yet! Did she tell you how I discovered it? I was trying to make an edible adhesive for this mammoth, ten-layer wedding cake and—”

“Rand,” I interrupted, “I would love to hear the story, and you must promise to tell me another time. But we’re both short on sleep.”

“Oh, yes. You’re right.” He pointed to a stack of loaves and said, “Take what you need.”

While I collected bread, he rummaged around in a drawer, then handed me a jar of white glue.

“It’s not permanent. The glue will stick for about a week then it loses its grip. Anything else?”

“Um. Yes.” I hesitated, reluctant to make my last request, which was my main reason for wanting to be alone with Rand.

“What?”

“I need a knife.”

His head jerked. I could see a spark behind his eyes as the memory of how I had killed Reyad flashed through his mind. I saw the gears in his head turning as he weighed our fledgling friendship against this unusual request.

I fully expected him to question me as to why I needed a knife. Instead he asked, “Which one?”

“The scariest-looking one you’ve got.

14

THE NEXT MORNING, I headed out the south gate just as the sun crested the Soul Mountains. Soon a glorious sweep of sunlight rushed over the valley, indicating the start of the Commander’s exercise. My heart pulsed with excitement and fear. A strange combination of feelings, but they fueled my steps. I scarcely felt the weight of my backpack.

I had worried that the items contained in my knapsack could be considered cheating. After much thought, I decided that a prisoner intent on escaping from the dungeon would save some of her bread rations, smuggle a weapon from the guard room and steal the other items from the blacksmiths. And if I was stretching things a bit, then so what. No one had told me I must flee with nothing.

My determination to “escape” had increased since the plan had first been proposed. The money was merely a bonus at this point. I wanted to prove the Commander wrong. The Commander, who thought I wouldn’t get far, who had been concerned my death would jeopardize his exercise.

Before leaving the castle complex, I had stopped for a moment to view the main building in the daylight. My first impression was that a child had built the palace with his toy blocks. The base of the castle was rectangular. It supported various upper levels of squares, triangles and cylinders built atop one another in a haphazard fashion. The only attempts at symmetry were the magnificent towers at each corner of the castle. Streaked with brilliantly colored glass windows, the four towers stretched toward the sky.

The castle’s unusual geometric design intrigued me, and I would have liked to view it from other angles, but Valek had instructed me to leave the complex at dawn as I only had an hour’s head start. Then, the soldiers and dogs in pursuit would try to discover which gate I had exited, tracking me from there. Valek had taken one of my uniform shirts in order to give the dogs my scent. I had asked him who would taste the Commander’s food while I was gone, and he’d given me some vague reply about having others trained in the art of poisoning who were too valuable to be used on a regular basis. Unlike me.

My southern route was an obvious direction, but I didn’t plan to maintain it for long. I hoped the soldiers would assume I was headed straight for the border. The castle complex was in Military District 6 and quite close to the southern lands, wedged between MD–7 to the west and MD–5 to the east. The dead King, who had built the complex, had preferred the milder weather.

Alternating between jogging and walking, it wasn’t long before I entered Snake Forest, avoiding Castletown. While studying some of Valek’s maps the previous night, I had noticed that the forest surrounded Castletown on three sides. The northern district of the town faced the castle. Snake Forest also spread out to the east and west like a thin belt of green.

At the official southern border, Commander Ambrose’s soldiers had cleared a hundred-foot-wide swath from the Soul Mountains in the east all the way to the Sunset Ocean in the west. Since the takeover it was a crime for anyone, Ixian or Sitian, to cross this line.

I jogged through the forest, making a conspicuous trail. Breaking branches and stomping footprints in the dirt, I remained southbound until I reached a small stream. My hour head start was almost up. I knelt by the stream’s bank and reached into the water. Pulling out a handful of mud, I let the water drain through my fingers. I hunched over the stream and smeared the wet sediment on my face and neck. Since I had pulled my hair into a bun, I rubbed mud on my ears and the back of my neck. I hoped the men would guess I had knelt here for a drink. After stamping footprints near the stream’s bank to mislead my pursuers into thinking I had walked into the water, I traced my route back until I found a perfect tree.

About six feet from my path, a Velvatt’s smooth trunk rose high into the air. The first sturdy branch off the main trunk stretched fifteen feet above my head. Trying not to disturb the ground surrounding my scent path, I removed my backpack and pulled out one of the items I had borrowed from the blacksmiths. It was a small metal grappling hook. I tied it to the end of a long thin rope coiled inside my bag.

With my head start gone, a sudden image of guards and dogs exploding from the castle flashed through my mind. Hastily I threw the hook up to the branch. It missed. I caught it on the way down. Frantic, I threw the hook again. Missed. I calmed my raging pulse and focused on the task. The hook snagged the branch. Confident the hook was secure, I tied the extra line around my waist so it wouldn’t drag and put on my backpack. Grabbing the rope with both hands, I pulled my weight off the ground and wrapped my legs around the slack.

It had been a long time since I had climbed this way. All the way up the rope, my arm, shoulder and back muscles complained over my year-long inactivity. Once I reached the top, I straddled the branch and repacked the rope and hook in my backpack.

A strong breeze blew from the west. Wanting to stay downwind of the dogs, I spent the next half hour climbing east through the trees until I was well away from my original path. For once, my small size and acrobatic abilities proved a benefit.

When I came across a Cheketo tree, I found a secure nook near the trunk and unslung my backpack. The Cheketo’s leaf was the biggest that grew in the Snake Forest. Its circular-shaped green leaf, spotted with brown, was perfect for my needs. I sat still for a minute, listening for sounds of pursuit. Birds chirped and insects buzzed; I heard the quick rustling of leaves as a deer moved. I detected the faint baying of dogs, but it might have been just my imagination. There was no sign of Valek. But knowing him, he had to be close behind.

Taking Rand’s glue from my pack, I stripped leaves off the tree. When I had enough, I removed my shirt and glued the leaves onto it. Feeling self-conscious in just my sleeveless undershirt, I worked fast.

I covered the shirt, then my pants, boots and backpack with leaves. Finally, I glued a large leaf onto my hair and two smaller ones onto the backs of my hands, leaving my fingers free to move. Rand’s warning that the glue only held for a week passed through my mind, and I smiled as I envisioned his reaction when he saw me walking around the castle with leaves attached to my head and hands.

I didn’t have a mirror, but I hoped I had camouflaged my entire body in green and brown. I wasn’t concerned with the small black patches that might show through; it was the bright red of my uniform shirt that would immediately give me away.

Too nervous to stay in one place for long, I continued to climb east as fast and quiet as I could. My eastern direction wandered. Since I was unwilling to let my scent touch the ground, I had to detour either north or south on occasion. My grappling hook and rope were employed many times as I used them to bring branches within reach, or to swing from tree to tree. My muscles protested the abuse, but I ignored them. Laughing to myself whenever I overcame a difficult hurdle, I enjoyed the pure freedom of traveling above the ground. I grinned as I sweated through the entire morning. Eventually I knew I would have to head south again because that was the only place a fugitive could find safety and asylum.

Sitia welcomed the refugees from Ixia. Their government had had an open relationship with the King, trading exotic spices, fabrics and foods for metals, precious stones and coal. When the Commander ceased trade, Ixia lost mainly luxury items while Sitia’s resources became limited. Worry that Sitia would try to conquer the north for needed resources had dissipated when the Sitian geologists discovered that their Emerald Mountains, a continuation of the northern Soul Mountains, were rich in ores and minerals. Now, it seemed, Sitia was content to keep a wary eye on the north.

Soon my climb through the trees intersected a well-used path in the forest. I saw deep wagon ruts in the hard-packed dirt. The road was probably a part of the main east-west trading route, which turned north for a few miles to detour around Lake Keyra before resuming its easterly direction. The lake was just over the border of MD–5.

Settling on a sturdy branch within sight of the path, I leaned back on the tree’s trunk, rested and ate my lunch while deciding where to go next. After a while, the soothing noises from the forest almost lulled me to sleep.

“See anything?” A male voice beneath me disrupted the quiet.

Startled, I grabbed the branch to keep from falling. Caught, I froze in shock.

“No. All clear,” another man’s voice replied from a distance. His tone was rough with annoyance.

There had been no barking to alert me; it must be the other team. I had been so worried about the dogs that I had forgotten about the smaller team. Too cocky, I thought. I deserved to be caught early.

I waited for them to order me down, but they remained quiet. Looking below, I searched the forest but couldn’t locate them. Maybe they hadn’t seen me after all. After a bit of rustling, two men emerged from the dense underbrush. They, too, wore green and brown camouflage, although their snug overalls and face paint were more professional than my glued-together ensemble.

“Stupid idea, coming east. She’s probably at the southern border by now,” Rough Voice grumbled to his partner.

“That’s what the dog boys figured, even though the hounds lost her scent,” said the second man.

I smiled. I’d outsmarted the dogs. At least I had managed to accomplish that much.

“I don’t know if I follow the logic of going east,” Rough Voice said.

The other man sighed. “You’re not supposed to follow the logic. The Captain ordered us east; we go east. He seems to think she’ll head deeper into MD–5. Familiar territory for her.”

“Well, what if she doesn’t come back? Another stupid idea, using the food taster,” Rough Voice complained. “She’s a criminal.”

“That’s not our concern. That’s Valek’s problem. I’m sure if she got away he would take care of her.”

I wondered if Valek was listening. We both knew he wouldn’t need to hunt me down; all he had to do was wait the poison out. I found the conversation helpful, especially the fact that it wasn’t common knowledge that I’d been poisoned.

“Let’s go. We’re supposed to rendezvous with the Captain at the lake. Oh, and try to keep the noise down. You sound like a panicked moose crashing through the woods,” the smarter man chided.

“Oh yeah. Like you could hear me over your specially trained ‘woodland-animal footsteps,’” Rough Voice countered. “It was like listening to two deer humping each other.”

The men laughed and in a wink disappeared into the underbrush, one on each side of the path. I strained to hear them moving but couldn’t tell if they were gone. I waited until I couldn’t bear the inactivity. The men had decided my next move. The lake was to the east. Climbing through the trees, I headed south.

As I worked my way along, an odd, creepy feeling burrowed its way into my mind. Somehow I became convinced that the men I had seen on the path were following me, hunting me. An uncontrollable urge to move fast pushed on me like a strong hand on the back of my neck, propelling me forward. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I threw all precautions of keeping hidden and quiet aside. I dropped to the ground and bolted.

When I burst into a small clearing in the trees, I stopped. The overpowering feeling of panic had disappeared. My sides stitched with pain. Dropping my pack, I collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath. I cursed myself for such panicky behavior.

“Nice outfit,” a familiar voice said. Dread and fear gave me the energy to jump to my feet.

No one in sight. Yet. I ripped open my backpack and pulled the knife. My heart performed somersaults in my chest. I turned in slow circles as I scanned the forest, searching for the voice of death.

15

LAUGHTER SURROUNDED ME. “Your weapon won’t do you any good. I could easily convince you that it was your heart you want to plunge that knife into instead of mine.”

I spotted her across the clearing. Clad in a loose, green camouflage shirt cinched tight at the waist and identical colored pants, the southern magician lounged against a tree with her arms crossed in front of her, her posture casual.

Expecting the southern magician’s goons to attack me from the forest, I kept the knife out in front of me, turning in circles.

“Relax,” the magician said. “We’re alone.”

I stopped circling but retained a firm grip on my weapon. “Why should I trust you? Last time we met, you ordered me killed. Even supplied that handy little strap.” The sudden realization that she hadn’t needed her thugs at all leaped into my mind. I began reciting poison names in my head.

The magician laughed like someone amused by a small child. “That won’t help you. The only reason reciting worked at the festival was because Valek was there.”

She stepped closer. I waved the knife in a threatening gesture.

“Yelena, relax. I projected into your mind to guide you here. If I wanted you dead, I would have pushed you from the trees. Accidents are less trouble than murders in Ixia. A fact you’re well aware of.”

I ignored her jibe. “Why didn’t I have an ‘accident’ at the festival? Or at another time?”

“I need to be close to you. It takes a lot of energy to kill someone; I’d rather use mundane methods if possible. The festival was the first time I could get close to you without Valek nearby, or so I thought.” She shook her head in frustration.

“Why didn’t you kill Valek with your magic at the festival?” I asked. “Then I would have been easy prey.”

“Magic doesn’t work on Valek. He’s resistant to its effects.”

Before I could ask for more information, she hurried on. “I don’t have time to explain everything. Valek will be here soon so I’ll make this brief. Yelena, I’m here to make you an offer.”

I remembered my last offer, to be the food taster or to be executed. “What could you possibly offer me? I have a job, color-coordinated uniforms and a boss to die for. What more could I need?”

“Asylum in Sitia,” she said, her tone tight. “So you can learn to control and use your power.”

“Power?” The word squeaked out of my mouth before I could stop it. “What power?”

“Oh, come on! How could you not know? You’ve used it at least twice at the castle.”

My mind whirled. She was talking about my survival instinct. That strange buzzing that possessed me whenever my life was in serious jeopardy. My body numbed with dread. I felt as if she had just told me I had a terminal disease.

“I was working undercover nearby when I was overcome by your screaming, raw power. Once I was able to pinpoint the source to Commander Ambrose’s food taster, I knew a rescue effort to smuggle you south would be impossible. You’re either with Valek, or he’s been one step behind you. Even now, I’m taking an extraordinary risk. But it’s too dangerous to have a wild magician in the north. It’s amazing you lasted this long without being discovered. The only choice left was termination. A task that proved more difficult than I’d first imagined. But not impossible.”

“And now I’m supposed to trust you? Do you think I’d meekly follow you to Sitia like a lamb to the slaughter?”

“Yelena, if you weren’t playing fugitive, which brought you out of the castle and away from Valek, you’d be dead by now.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed her. What would she gain by helping me? Why go to all this effort if she had the power to kill me? Something else must be motivating her.

“You don’t believe me.” She grunted in frustration. “Okay, how about a little demonstration?” She tilted her head to the side and pressed her lips together.

A searing, hot pain whipped through my mind like lightning. Wrapping my arms and hands around my head, I tried in vain to block the onslaught. Then a fist-size force slammed into my forehead. I jolted backward and fell to the ground. Sprawled on my back, I felt the pain disappear as fast as it had arrived. Through vision blurred with tears, I squinted at the magician. She still stood near the edge of the clearing. She hadn’t touched me, at least not physically. The weight of her mental connection felt like a wool cap encompassing my skull.

“What the hell was that?” I demanded. “What happened to the singing?” I was dazed by her attack, the air on my body feeling as if it had liquefied, and when I moved to a sitting position the dense air swirled and lapped at my skin.

“I sang at the festival because I was trying to be kind. This was an effort to convince you that if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t be wasting my time talking to you now. And I certainly wouldn’t wait until you were in Sitia.” Her head cocked as if she listened to an invisible person whispering in her ear.

“Valek has dropped all pretense of stealth. He’s traveling fast. Two men pursue him, but the men believe they’re chasing you.” She paused and her mouth settled once again into a hard line as she concentrated. “I can slow the men down, but not Valek.” She focused her faraway gaze on me. “Are you coming with me?”

I couldn’t speak. The thought that her idea of kindness was singing someone to death had left me quite distracted. I stared at her in complete astonishment.

“No.” I had to force the word out.

“What?” It wasn’t the answer she’d expected. “You enjoy being the food taster?”

“No, I don’t, but I’ll die if I go with you.”

“You’ll die if you stay.”

“I’ll take my chances.” I stood, brushed the dirt off my legs and retrieved my knife. The last thing I wanted to do was explain to the magician about the poison in my blood. Why give her another weapon to be used against me? But with her mental link to me, I only had to think about the Butterfly’s Dust and she knew.

“There are antidotes,” she said.

“Can you find one before morning?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. We would need more time. Our healers would need to understand where the poison is hiding. It could be in your blood, or in your muscles or anywhere, and they would need to know how it kills in order to banish it.”

When she saw my complete lack of understanding, the magician continued, “The source of our power—what you call magic—is like a blanket surrounding the world. Our minds tap into this source, pulling a slender thread down to enhance our magical abilities, to turn them on. Every person has the latent ability to read minds and influence the physical world without touching it, but they don’t have the ability to connect with the power source.”

She sighed, looking unhappy. “Yelena, we can’t have your wild power flaring uncontrolled. Without knowing it, you’re pulling power. Instead of a thread, you’re grabbing whole sections and bunching the power blanket around you. As you grow older you will have amassed so much power that it will explode or flame out. This flameout will not only kill you, it will warp and damage the power source itself, ripping a hole in the blanket. We can’t risk a flameout and soon you’ll be untrainable. That is why we have no choice but to terminate you before you reach that point.”

“How long do I have?” I asked.

“One year. Maybe a little more if you can control yourself. After that you’ll be beyond our help. And we need you, Yelena. Powerful magicians are scarce in Sitia.”

My mind raced over my options. Her display of power had convinced me she was more of a threat than I had ever imagined and that I would be a complete idiot to trust her at all. However, if I didn’t go, she’d kill me where I stood.

So I delayed the inevitable. “Give me a year. A year to find a permanent antidote, to find a way to escape to Sitia. A year free from worrying that you’re plotting my death.”

She stared deep into my eyes. Her mental touch pressed harder in my mind as she searched for a sign that I might be deceiving her.

“All right. One year. My pledge to you.” She paused.

“Go on,” I said. “I know you want to end this meeting with some kind of threat. Maybe a dire warning? Feel free. I’m used to it. I wouldn’t know how to deal with a conversation that didn’t include one.”

“You put on such a brave front. But I know if I took another step toward you, you’d wet your pants.”

“With your blood.” I brandished my knife. But I couldn’t keep a straight face; the boast sounded ridiculous even to my own ears. I snickered. She laughed. The release of tension made me giddy, and soon I was laughing and crying.

The magician then grew sober. Cocking her head again, she listened to her invisible companion. “Valek is close. I must go.”

“Tell me one more thing.”

“What?”

“How did you know I’d be the fugitive? Magic?”

“No. I have sources of information that I’m unable to reveal.”

I nodded my understanding. Asking for details had been worth a try.

“Be careful, Yelena,” she said, vanishing into the forest.

I realized that I didn’t even know her name.

“Irys,” she whispered in my mind, and then her mental touch withdrew.

As I thought about everything she had told me, I realized I had many more questions to ask her, all more important than who had leaked information. Knowing she was gone, though, I suppressed the desire to call after her. Instead, I dropped to the ground.

With my body shaking, I replaced my knife in the backpack. I pulled out my water bottle and took a long drink, wishing the container was filled with something stronger. Something that would burn my throat on its way down. Something to focus on besides the disjointed and lost feeling that threatened to consume me.

I needed time to think before Valek and the two men caught up with me. Taking out the rope and grappling hook, I searched once again for a suitable tree and reentered the forest canopy. Moving south, I let the physical effort of climbing keep my body busy while I sorted through all the information the magician had given me.

When I reached another path in the forest, I found a comfortable position on a tree branch within sight of the trail. I secured myself to the trunk of the tree with my rope. The magician had promised me one year, but I didn’t want to tempt her with an easy target. She could change her mind; after all, what did I know about magicians and their pledges?

She claimed I had power. Magical power that I had always thought of as my survival instinct. When I had been in those dire situations, I had felt possessed. As if someone else more capable of dealing with the crisis took temporary control over my body, rescued me from death and then left.

Could the strange buzzing sound that erupted from my throat and saved my life really be the same as Irys’s power? If so, I must keep my magic a secret. And I had to gain some control of the power to keep it from flaming out. But how? Avoid life-threatening situations. I scoffed at the notion of evading trouble. Trouble seemed to find me regardless of my efforts. Orphaned. Tortured. Poisoned. Cursed with magic. The list grew longer by the day.

I didn’t have the time to resolve these complex issues that circled without end in my mind. Focusing my thoughts on the present, I studied the trail below. Small saplings threatened to retake the narrow forest path; it must have been one of the abandoned roadways used to trade with Sitia.

I waited for Valek. He would demand an explanation about my encounter with the magician, and I was ready to give one.

My only warning of Valek’s arrival was a gentle rustling of the branch above mine. I looked up to see him uncoiling from the upper branch like a snake. He dropped soundlessly beside me.

Green camouflage seemed to be the outfit of choice today. Valek’s was skintight and came equipped with a hood to cover his hair and neck. Brown and green paint streaked his face, causing the bright blue of his eyes to stand out in stark contrast.

I looked down at my own ragtag outfit. Some of the leaves had frayed at the edges, and my uniform had sustained many tears from climbing through the trees. Next time I planned to flee through the woods, I’d persuade Dilana to sew me an outfit like Valek’s.

“You’re unbelievable,” Valek said.

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good. I assumed you would give the soldiers a good chase, and you did. But I never expected this.” Valek pointed at my leaf-covered shirt and swept his arms wide, indicating the trees. “And to top it all off, you encountered the magician and somehow managed to survive.” Sarcasm tinged Valek’s voice during his last comment.

His way of asking for an explanation, I supposed.

“I don’t know what exactly happened. I found myself tearing through the woods until I reached a clearing, where she was waiting. The only thing she told me was that I had ruined her plans by killing Reyad, and then pain slammed into my skull.” The memory of her attack was still fresh in my mind, so I allowed the full horror of it to show on my face. If Valek ever suspected what had really happened, I wouldn’t live the year the magician had granted me. And mentioning Reyad’s name supported one of Valek’s theories about why the magician was after me.

I took a deep breath. “I started reciting poisons. I tried to push the pain away. Then the attack stopped, and she said you were getting too close. When I opened my eyes she had disappeared.”

“Why didn’t you wait for me in the clearing?”

“I didn’t know where she had gone. I felt safer in the trees, knowing you’d be able to find me.”

Valek considered my explanation. I covered my nervousness by sorting through my backpack.

After a long while, he grinned. “We certainly proved the Commander wrong. He thought you’d be caught by midmorning.”

I smiled with relief. Taking advantage of his good mood, I asked, “Why does the Commander hate magicians so much?”

The pleased expression dropped from Valek’s face. “He has many reasons. They were the King’s colleagues. Aberrations of nature, who used their power for purely selfish and greedy reasons. They amassed wealth and jewels, curing the sick only if the dying’s family could pay their exorbitant fee. The King’s magicians played mind games with everyone, taking delight in causing havoc. The Commander wants nothing to do with them.”

Curious, I pushed on. “What about using them for his purposes?”

“He thinks magicians are not to be trusted, but I’m of two minds about that,” Valek said. He gazed out over the forest floor as he talked. “I understand the Commander’s concern, killing all the King’s magicians was a good strategy, but I think the younger generation born with power could be recruited for our intelligence network. We disagree on this issue, and despite my arguments the Commander has—” Valek stopped. He seemed reluctant to continue.

“Has what?”

“Ordered that those born with even the slightest amount of magical power be killed immediately.”

I had known about the execution of the southern spies and the magicians from the King’s era, but imagining babies being ripped from their mother’s arms made me gasp in horror. “Those poor children.”

“It’s brutal, but not that brutal,” Valek said. A sadness had softened his eyes. “The ability to connect with the power source doesn’t occur until after puberty, which is around age sixteen. It usually takes another year for someone other than their family to notice and report them. Then, they either escape to Sitia, or I find them.”

His words had the weight of a wooden beam pressing down on my shoulders. I found it difficult to breathe. Sixteen was when Brazell had recruited me. When my survival instinct had started to flare, defending against Brazell and Reyad’s torture. Had they been trying to test me for magic? But why didn’t they report me? Why hadn’t Valek come?

I had no idea what Brazell wanted. And knowing now about my power only added yet another way I could die. If Valek discovered my magic, I was dead. If I didn’t find a way to go to Sitia, I was dead. If someone poisoned the Commander’s food, I was dead. If Brazell built his factory and sought revenge for his son, I was dead. Dead, dead, dead and dead. Death by Butterfly’s Dust was beginning to look attractive. It was the only scenario where I would get to choose when, where and how I died.

I would have sunk into a deep, brooding bout of self-pity, but Valek grabbed my arm and put a finger to his green lips.

The distant sounds of hoofbeats and men talking reached my ears. My first thought was that it was an illusion sent by the magician. But soon enough, I saw mules pulling wagons. The width of the wagons filled the entire path, saplings and bushes thwacked against the wheels. Two mules pulled one wagon, and one man dressed in a brown trader’s uniform led the team. There were six wagons and six men who conversed among themselves as they traveled.

From my post in the tree, I could see that the first five wagons were loaded with burlap sacks that might have been filled with grain or flour. The last wagon held strange, oval-shaped yellow pods.

Snake Forest was just bustling with activity today, I thought in wonder. All we needed was the fire dancers to jump from the trees to entertain us all.

Valek and I sat still in our tree as the men passed below us. Their uniforms were soaked with sweat, and I noticed a few of them had rolled up their pants so they wouldn’t trip. One man’s belt was cinched tight, causing the extra material to bunch around his waist, while another’s stomach threatened to rip through his buttons. These poor traders obviously didn’t have a permanent residence. If they had, their seamstress would never have permitted them to walk around looking like that.

When they were out of sight and hearing range, Valek whispered, “Don’t move, I’ll be back.” He dropped to the ground and followed the caravan.

I fidgeted on my branch, wondering if the other two men Irys had said were tracking Valek would find me before he returned. The sun was disappearing in the west, and cooler air was replacing the day’s heat. Muscles stiff from inactivity throbbed as the last of my energy faded. The strenuous day of climbing caught up to me. For the first time the possibility of spending a night alone in the forest made me apprehensive; I had never imagined staying free this long.

At last, Valek returned and waved me down from the tree. I moved with care, fumbling with the rope around my waist as my abused muscles trembled with fatigue.

He carried a small sack, which he handed to me. Inside were five of the yellow pods that had been stacked in the last wagon. I took one out. Now that I could see it up close, I noticed that the elongated, oval pod was about eight inches in length, with close to ten furrows running from one end to the other. It was thick around the middle. With two hands wrapped around its center, my fingers just overlapped.

I was amazed by Valek’s ability to steal them in the daylight from a moving wagon. “How did you get these?”

“Trade secret,” Valek said with a grin. “Getting the pods was easy, but I had to wait for the men to water their mules to look in the burlap sacks.”

When I slid the pod back in with the others, I saw that in the bottom of the sack was a pile of dark brown pebbles. Reaching deeper, I pulled a handful into the waning light. They looked like beans.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“They’re from the sacks,” he explained. “I want you to take these back to Commander Ambrose. Tell him I don’t know what they are or where they came from and I’m following the caravan to see where they’re going.”

“Are they doing something illegal?”

“I’m not sure. If these pods and beans are from Sitia, then yes. It’s illegal to trade with the south. One thing I do know, those men aren’t traders.”

I was about to ask him how he knew this, when the answer clicked in my mind. “Their uniforms don’t fit. Borrowed maybe? Or stolen?”

“Most likely stolen. If you’re going to borrow a uniform, I would think you’d find one that fits.” Valek was quiet for a moment, listening to the sounds of the forest. I could hear the droning of the insects grow louder as the sun set.

“Yelena, I want you to find those two men you saw this afternoon, and have them escort you back to the castle. I don’t want you alone. If the magician plans on attacking you again, she’ll have to deal with two more, and I doubt she’d have the energy. Don’t tell anyone about your tree climbing, the magician or the caravan. But give a complete report about everything to the Commander.”

“What about my antidote?”

“The Commander keeps a supply handy. He’ll give it to you. And don’t worry about your incentive. You’ve earned every penny. When I get back, I’ll make sure you get it. Now, I need to keep moving or I’ll spend the rest of the night catching up to the caravan.”

“Valek, wait,” I demanded. For the second time today someone wanted to disappear before explaining everything to my satisfaction, and I was growing weary of it.

He stopped.

“How do I find the others?” Without the sun, my sense of direction failed. I wasn’t sure if I could find my way back to the clearing, much less to the castle on my own.

“Just follow this path.” He pointed in the direction the wagons had come from. “I managed to shake them off my tail before I caught up with you. The soldiers were heading southwest; they’re probably staking out this trail. Technically, that’s the best strategy.”

Valek jogged away along the path. I watched him go. He moved with the light grace and speed of a deer, his muscles rippling under his formfitting camouflage.

When he was out of sight, I crunched my feet on the loose stones of the trail, making noise. Twilight robbed the trees of color as darkness descended. Uneasiness settled over me. Every rustle caused my heart to jump, and I found myself peering over my shoulder, wishing Valek was here.

A shout pierced the air. Before I could react, a large shape rushed me, tackling me to the ground.

16

“GOT YOU!” SAID THE MAN sitting on top of me.

Even with my face pressed into the stones, and my mouth full of dirt, I recognized his rough voice from earlier in the day. He yanked my arms behind me. I felt cold metal bite into my wrists as I heard the snap and clink of manacles.

“Isn’t that a bit much, Janco?” asked Janco’s partner.

Janco moved off me, and I was hauled to my feet. In the semidarkness, I saw the man that held me was thin, with a goatee. He wore his dark hair buzzed in the typical military style. A thick scar ran from his right temple to his ear. The lower half of his right ear was missing.

“She was too damn hard to find. I don’t want her getting away,” Janco grumbled.

His companion was about the same height but twice as wide. Thick, sculpted muscles bulged through his camouflage uniform. Small, damp curls clung to his head, and from this distance his eyes held no color except the black of his pupils.

I wanted to flee. It was almost dark; I was manacled and alone with two strange men. Logically, I knew that these were the Commander’s soldiers, and they were professionals, but that didn’t stop my pulse from racing.

“You made us look bad,” Janco said. “Every soldier out here is probably going to be reassigned. We’ll all be cleaning out latrines ’cause of you.”

“That’s enough, Janco,” Colorless Eyes said. “We won’t be scrubbing floors. We found her. And take a look at that getup. No one expected her to go camo, that’s why she was so hard to find. But, still, the Captain’s gonna shit when he sees this!”

“And the Captain’s back at the castle?” I asked, trying to prompt them in that direction.

“No. He’s leading a line farther southwest. We’ll have to report to him.”

I sighed at the delay. I had hoped for a quick trip back. “How about you send Janco here to find the Captain, while we head to the castle?”

“Sorry, but we’re not permitted to split up. We’re required to travel in pairs, no exceptions.”

“Um…” Janco started.

“Yelena,” I supplied.

“Why are you so anxious to get back?” he asked.

“I’m afraid of the dark.”

Colorless Eyes laughed. “Somehow I doubt that. Janco, take the cuffs off her. She’s not going to run away. That’s not the point of this exercise.”

Janco hesitated.

I said, “You have my word, Janco. I won’t run if you take off the manacles.”

He grumbled some more but unlocked the cuffs. I wiped the dirt from my face. “Thanks.”

He nodded, and then pointed to his partner. “He’s Ardenus.”

“Ari, for short.” Ari extended his hand, giving me an honor. If a soldier offered his hand, he was acknowledging me as an equal.

I shook it gravely, and then the three of us headed southwest to find their Captain.

The trip to the castle was almost comical. Almost. If my stiff and sore muscles hadn’t protested my every step, and if the bone-deep ache of pure exhaustion hadn’t pulled at my body like a stone cloak, I would have been amused.

Janco and Ari’s Captain fumed and blustered when we caught up with him. “Well, well, well. Look at what our two sweethearts finally found,” Captain Parffet said. His bald head was beaded with sweat that rolled down the sides of his face, soaking his collar. He was old for a Captain, and I wondered if his surly disposition was the reason for his lack of promotion.

“I’m supposed to have the best scouts in Commander Ambrose’s guard,” Parffet shouted at Ari and Janco. “Maybe you can enlighten us as to which procedure you followed that took you over seventeen hours to find the bitch!” Parffet continued his verbal bashing. Even in the darkness I could see his face turning purple.

I tuned him out and studied his unit. A couple of faces smirked, agreeing with their Captain, some were resigned, as if used to his tantrums, and others wore bored and tired expressions. One man, who had shaved his entire head except for his bangs, stared with an uncomfortable intensity at me. When I made eye contact, he jerked his glance to the Captain.

“Nix, put the bitch in manacles,” Parffet ordered, and the man with the bangs pulled metal cuffs off his belt. “I see our two prima donnas can’t be bothered to follow this unit’s standard procedures.”

As Nix approached, I searched for a chance to slip away. My promise to Janco had only extended to a “hands free” trip back to the castle. Ari, sensing my frame of mind, placed a large hand on my shoulder, anchoring me to his side.

“We have her word, sir, that she won’t run off,” he said in my defense.

“Like that means anything.” Parffet spat on the ground.

“She has given her word,” Ari repeated. A low rumble in his voice reminded me of a huge dog growling a warning.

Parffet grudgingly allowed procedure to be modified, but savored his bad temper by harassing the rest of his soldiers into formation, initiating a fast march back to the castle.

I walked wedged between Ari and Janco like some prized trophy. Ari explained that the Captain didn’t handle surprises well, and had been frustrated by my daylong romp in the forest.

“It doesn’t help that we found you. He didn’t promote us to his unit like the others. We were assigned by Valek,” Janco said.

Parffet’s mood turned blacker when the dog team overtook our procession. Chaos erupted as barking dogs and more guards tangled together. I experienced a moment of panic when the canines rushed me. As it turned out, they greeted me with wagging tails and licking tongues. Their pure joy was infectious. I smiled, and scratched their ears, stopping only when Parffet scowled and shouted for order.

The dogs wore no collars. The kennel master was part of the tracking team. The dogs reassembled on Porter’s command, following his orders without fail. The commander of the dog team seemed disappointed that Porter’s dogs hadn’t found me first, but she took it with better grace than Ari’s Captain had. She introduced herself as Captain Etta and walked beside me to ask questions about my “run.” I liked her easy, respectful manner. Her mop of dark blond hair pushed the limits of military regulation.

I stuck to the truth as much as I could during our conversation. When it came to questions regarding where my scent had disappeared, I lied. I explained that I had walked northward in the water for a while before heading east.

Etta shook her head. “We were so focused on you heading south. Parffet was right to look east.”

“My eventual destination was south, but I wanted to try and confuse the dogs before I turned.”

“You succeeded. The Commander won’t be pleased. Good thing Ari and Janco found you. Had you stayed out till morning, both teams would have been demoted.”

The last two miles to the castle were a blur. Using every ounce of my dwindling energy to keep my feet moving forward, I concentrated all my strength on keeping up with the soldiers. When we stopped, it took me a moment to realize that we had entered the castle complex.

It was well past midnight. The noise of our arrival bounced and amplified off the silent stone walls. The dogs followed Porter to the kennels while the weary parade of soldiers trod up the steps toward the Commander’s office. We finished our march among the empty desks of the throne room.

Lantern light blazed from the open door of the Commander’s office. The two soldiers standing guard wore amused expressions, but remained quiet and still. Parffet and Etta shared a look of resignation before going in to report to the Commander. I found a chair and collapsed into it, accepting the risk that I might have difficulties regaining my feet.

Soon the Captains returned. Parffet’s face was creased in a dark frown, but Etta’s showed no emotion. They dismissed their units. I was summoning the energy to stand, when Etta came over and helped me to my feet.

“Thanks,” I said.

“The Commander awaits your report.”

I nodded. Etta left to rejoin her unit, and I headed toward the office. I hesitated in the doorway; I was used to the semidarkness of the throne room, and the lantern light stung my eyes.

“Come in,” Commander Ambrose ordered.

I stood before his desk. He sat immobile and impassive as always, his smooth, ethereal face barren of wrinkles. A stray thought plucked at my mind, and I wondered about his age. Gray streaks painted the Commander’s short hair. His rank alone suggested an older man, but his slight build and youthful face made me guess his age was closer to forty. About seven years older than Valek, if my estimation of Valek’s age was accurate.

“Report.”

I described my actions for the day in detail, including my tree swinging and the magician. Giving the same version of my encounter with the southerner that I had told Valek, I concluded my report with the caravan and Valek’s orders that I return. I waited for the Commander’s questions.

“So Ari and Janco didn’t capture you?” he asked.

“No. But they were the only ones who even came close. They passed right below a tree I hid in, and were skilled enough to track Valek for a while.”

The Commander stilled for a moment. His golden eyes looked past me as he absorbed the information. “Where are the items Valek procured?”

I opened my backpack, and placed the pods and beans on his desk.

He picked up a yellow pod and rotated it in his hands before returning it. Grabbing a handful of beans, he hefted them, feeling their weight and texture. After sniffing one, he broke the bean in half. The inside was as unrevealing as the outside had been.

“They’re not native to Ixia. They must be from Sitia. Yelena, take them with you and do some research. Find out what these are and where they’re grown.”

“Me?” Stunned, I had expected to dump them on the Commander and forget about them.

“Yes. Valek is constantly reminding me not to underestimate you, and once again you’ve proven yourself. General Brazell gave you a good education. I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

I wanted to argue, but I was curtly dismissed. Sighing, I dragged my unwilling body to the baths. Painfully peeling off my leaf-covered clothes, I washed the mud from my face and neck before submerging into a steaming pool.

There, I luxuriated in the warmth, stretching my aching muscles under the hot water to loosen them. Hoping to dissolve some of the glue from my hair, I dipped my head back, pulled my bun apart and let the long black strands float on the surface. The gentle sounds of lapping lulled me.

Strong hands grabbed my shoulders. I jerked awake under the water. Liquid filled my mouth and nose. I pushed the hands away in a panic. They released their grip for a second. I began to sink. Instinctively, I clutched my unknown assailant’s arms. Before I could curse my stupidity, I was yanked out of the bath and dumped onto the cold floor.

I sprang to my feet to meet the next assault. But there stood Margg with a disgusted expression anchored on her broad face. Water dripped from her hands and had soaked her sleeves. I shivered and pulled wet clumps of hair off my face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I yelled.

“Saving your worthless life,” she snarled.

“What?”

“Don’t worry. I took no pleasure in it. Frankly, I would have rejoiced to see you drown. Justice finally served! But the Commander ordered me to find you and see to your needs.” Margg grabbed a towel from the table and threw it at me. “You may have the Commander and Valek fooled into thinking you’re smart. But how smart can you be to fall asleep in a deep pool of water?”

I tried to think of a rude retort, remembering Dilana’s advice to be nasty right back. Nothing. My brain felt water-logged with fatigue. The idea that Margg had just saved my life kept sloshing around in my head. It was such a foreign concept that I couldn’t find a proper place to dock it.

Margg snorted, hatred oozing from her. “I followed my orders. Some might even agree that rescuing you was beyond the call of duty. So don’t you forget it, rat.”

She spun around to leave. Her skirts wrapped around her legs, and she stumbled through the door. So much for a dramatic exit, I thought as I toweled dry.

I felt no gratitude toward Margg for saving my life—assuming that was what she’d done. She might have pushed me under in spite, then “saved” me. And I didn’t owe her a favor. She had left me in a puddle of my own vomit after I had taken My Love, had refused to clean out my room in Valek’s suite, had written me a nasty message in the dust, and even worse, was probably leaking information about me to Brazell. If she had saved me from drowning, then, in my mind, it was a payback for some of those indiscretions, but not for all. As I saw it, she still owed me.

The hot soak helped restore some flexibility to my muscles. I peeled the leaves from my hands. Although green still clung to parts of my hair, I thought with some artful braiding I might be able to hide it.

The walk back to Valek’s suite seemed endless. In a zombie-like state of mind, I passed through countless hallways, intersections and doorways. My steps were fueled by the single-minded desire of getting to bed.

For the next few days I fell into a routine. I tasted the Commander’s meals, went to the library for research and took a daily walk around the castle complex. My day as a fugitive had caused me to crave the outdoors, and if I couldn’t swing through the trees, at least I could explore the grounds.

I used the map of the castle that I had copied in my journal to find the library. It was a multilevel suite of rooms, burgeoning with books. The smell of decay and dust floated in the air along with a sense of abandonment. I was saddened by the knowledge that this tremendous source of information was going to waste because the Commander discouraged his people from educating themselves beyond what was necessary for their jobs.

Within his military structure, a person was trained specifically for their position only. Learning just for the sake of learning was frowned on, and greeted with suspicion.

Once I had ascertained that the library was truly a forgotten place, I brought the pods and beans there instead of carrying the heavy books back to my room. I found a small nook tucked away in a corner. The nook had a wooden table which faced one of the large, egg-shaped windows that randomly perforated the back wall of the library. Sunlight streamed into the nook and, after clearing the table of dust, it became my work area.

Cutting one of the yellow pods in half, I discovered it was filled with a white mucilaginous pulp. A taste of the pulp revealed it to have a sweet and citrus flavor with a taint of sour, as if it was starting to rot. The white flesh contained seeds. I cleaned the pulp from the seeds and uncovered thirty-six of them. They resembled the beans from the caravan. My excitement diminished as I compared seed against bean in the sunlight. The pod seed was purple instead of brown, and when I bit into the seed, I spit it out as a strong bitter and astringent taste filled my mouth. Nothing close to the slightly tart and earthy taste of the brown beans.

Assuming that the pods were a fruit and the beans edible, I pulled out every botany book I could find in the library and piled them on my table. Then I went through the shelves again. This time, I grabbed any volume with information about poisons. A much smaller stack; Valek had probably taken the interesting ones back to his office. My third trip through the shelves was an effort to find books on magic. Nothing.

I paused by an empty shelf, an oddity in this tightly packed library, and wondered if it had contained manuals about magic. Considering how the Commander viewed magic, it was logical to destroy any pertinent information. On a whim, I explored the lower levels of the bookcase under the empty shelf. Thinking that a book from the empty shelf could have slid back behind the other books, I took out all the texts on the lower shelves. My efforts were rewarded by the discovery of a slim volume entitled Magical Power Sources. I hugged the book to my chest as paranoia gripped me. Scanning the library, I made sure no one was there. With sweaty palms, I hid the book in my backpack. I planned to read it later, preferably in my room with the door locked.

Giddy with my illicit acquisition, I searched the various rooms of the library until I found a comfortable chair. Before dragging it back to my nook, I beat the dust from its purple velvet cushions. It was the most elegant seat I had seen in the castle, and I wondered who had used it before me. Had the dead King been a bibliophile? The considerable collection of books said as much. Either that or he had shown his librarian great favor.

I spent many hours in that chair reading through the botany books and discovering nothing. I planned to decipher the pod and bean puzzle while I researched information for myself. The tedious work was at least broken into small sessions by my tasting the Commander’s meals and by my afternoon strolls around the castle.

It had been four days since the exercise, and that afternoon my walk had a purpose. I scouted for a place with a view of the east gate, but where I wouldn’t be obvious to the flow of people passing through.

Valek still hadn’t returned from his mission, and closing ceremonies had been performed the night before at the fire festival, ending the weeklong celebration. Rand, looking hungover, had informed me this morning that Brazell and his retinue would finally leave the castle, via the east gate, to go home. My desire to see Brazell’s retreating back with my own eyes had driven me to seek the perfect position.

The barracks for the Commander’s soldiers filled both the northeast and southwest corners of the castle complex. In the northeast barracks, the L-shaped building extended from the north gate to the east gate, and a large rectangular training area had been built next to the east leg of the building. There was a wooden fence around the yard and, when training was in progress, the fence attracted the castle’s various residents to stop along it to watch the exercises. That afternoon I joined in with a group of observers, who not only had a clear view of the fighting drills, but the east gate as well.

Rand’s information proved accurate. Soon I was rewarded by a parade of green-and-black–clad soldiers. I could see Brazell on his dappled mare, riding among his most trusted advisers, at the end of the procession. Brazell’s retinue ignored the people around them.

As I watched Brazell’s back, Reyad’s ghost appeared next to me. He smiled as he waved goodbye to his father. A shudder vibrated down my spine. I glanced around. Did anyone else see him? The group of people that I had been standing with had dispersed. Had Reyad scared them off? But when I looked again, his ghost was gone.

A hand touched my arm. I flinched.

“Good riddance to that lot,” Ari said, tilting his head toward the east gate. Seeing him for the first time in the sunlight, I noticed that Ari’s eyes were such a pale blue that in the darkness his eyes had seemed to hold no color.

Ari stood with Janco on the other side of the fence. Both wore the sleeveless shirts and short pants that the soldiers liked to train in. Sweat-soaked and streaked with dirt, their faces and bodies sported new cuts and bruises.

“Bet you’re as glad as we are to see them go,” Janco said. Resting his wooden training sword on the fence, he rubbed the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt.

“Yes, I am,” I said.

Looking toward the east gate, the three of us stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching Brazell’s entourage disappear through the gate.

“We want to thank you, Yelena,” Ari said.

“What for?”

“The Commander promoted us to Captains. He said you gave us a good report,” Janco said.

Surprised and pleased that the Commander would heed my words, I smiled at them. I could see Ari and Janco shared a loyalty to one another, an obvious bond of friendship and trust. Three years ago, I had felt that kind of kinship with May and Carra at the orphanage, but Reyad had torn me away, and the empty space inside me still ached. Rand had given me friendship, but there was still a distance. I longed to connect with someone. Unfortunately, my life as the food taster made it impossible. Who would take the risk of connecting with me when my odds of living through the next year were little to none?

“We’re scouting for the Commander’s elite guard now,” Janco said with pride in his voice.

“We owe you one. Anytime you need help, just let us know,” Ari said.

His words gave me a bold idea. Brazell might be gone, but he was still a threat. I thought fast, searching for reasons why my plan wouldn’t be to my benefit.

“I need help,” I said.

Surprise flashed over their faces. Ari recovered first. “With what?” he asked warily.

“I need to learn how to defend myself. Can you teach me self-defense and how to use a weapon?” I held my breath. Was I asking too much? If they said no, I hadn’t lost anything. At least I had tried.

Ari and Janco looked at each other. Eyebrows twitched, heads tilted, lips pursed and hands made small movements. I watched their silent conversation in amazement as they discussed my request.

“What kind of weapon?” Ari asked. Again that hesitation evident in his voice.

My mind raced. I needed something that was small enough to hide within my uniform. “A knife,” I said, knowing I’d have to return Rand’s to the kitchen.

More facial expressions were exchanged. I thought Ari might be agreeing, but Janco looked queasy, as if the idea didn’t sit well with him.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Look,” I said. “I’ll understand if you refuse. I don’t want to get you into trouble, and I know how Janco feels about me. I believe his exact words were: ‘She’s a criminal.’ So, if the answer is no, that’s fine with me.”

They stared at me in astonishment.

“How did you—” Janco started to say, but Ari punched him on the arm.

“She overheard us in the forest, you dope. How close were you?”

“Fifteen feet.”

“Damn.” Ari shook his head, which caused his tight blond curls to bounce. “We’re more worried about Valek. We’ll train you if he doesn’t object. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Ari and I shook hands. When I turned to Janco, he seemed deep in thought.

“A switchblade!” he declared, grabbing my hand.

“What?” I asked.

“A switchblade would be better than a knife,” Janco said.

“And where would I carry this…switchblade?”

“Strapped to your thigh. You cut a hole in your pants pocket. Then if you’re attacked, you pull it out, hit the switch, and a nine-inch blade leaps to your disposal.” Janco demonstrated the motion to me and mock stabbed Ari, who clutched his stomach dramatically and fell over.

Perfect, I thought. Thrilled by the idea of learning to defend myself, I asked, “When do we start?”

Janco scratched his goatee. “Since Valek isn’t back we could start with some basic self-defense moves, nothing objectionable about that.”

“Moves she could have learned by watching the soldiers train,” Ari said, agreeing with his partner.

They decided. “Right now,” they said in unison.

17

STANDING NEXT TO THE two oversize soldiers, I felt like a plum wedged between a couple of cantaloupes. Misgivings crept into my mind. The notion that I could defend myself against someone of Ari’s build seemed ridiculous. If he wanted, he could pick me up and throw me over his shoulder, and there was nothing I could do about it.

“Okay. First, we’ll start with some self-defense,” Ari explained. “No weapons until the basic moves are instinctive. You’re better off fighting hand to hand than wielding a weapon you don’t know how to use. A skilled opponent would simply disarm you. Then your troubles would be doubled. Not only would you be under attack, but you’d have to counter your own weapon.”

Ari leaned his practice sword next to Janco’s, scanning the training yard. Most of the soldiers were gone, but small clumps of men still worked.

“What are your strengths?” Ari asked.

“Strengths?”

“What are you good at?”

Janco, sensing my confusion, prompted, “Are you a fast runner? That’s a handy skill.”

“Oh.” I finally understood. “I’m flexible. I used to be an acrobat.”

“Perfect. Coordination and agility are excellent skills. And…” Ari grabbed me around the waist. He threw me high into the air.

My limbs flailed a moment before instinct kicked in. Still in midair, I tucked my chin, arms and legs close to my body, executed a somersault to align myself, and landed on my feet, wobbling to regain my balance.

Outraged, I turned on Ari. Before I could demand an explanation, he said, “Another advantage of having acrobatic training is the ability to stay on your feet. That maneuver of yours could mean the difference between life and death. Right, Janco?”

Janco rubbed the vacant spot where the lower half of his right ear used to be. “It helps. You know who else would make a great fighter?”

Ari’s shoulders sagged, as if he knew what Janco was going to say next and resigned himself to it.

Intrigued, I asked, “Who?”

“A dancer. With the proper training, the fire dancers at the festival could take on anyone. With a blazing staff spinning around, I wouldn’t go against one with any weapon.”

“Except a pail of water,” Ari countered.

He and Janco then launched into an intense argument, debating the technical aspects of a fight against a fiery staff wielded by an enraged dancer. Although fascinated by the discussion, I had to interrupt them. My time was limited. The Commander’s dinner would soon be served.

With only occasional sarcastic comments about fire dancers, Ari and Janco spent the remainder of my first lesson teaching me to block punches, then kicks, until my forearms were numb.

Ari halted the exercise when another soldier approached. His and Janco’s relaxed postures tightened. They shifted to defensive stances, as Nix, the guard from Captain Parffet’s unit, came closer. The skin on Nix’s bald head was sunburned, and his thin fringe of black hair lay damply on his forehead. An overpowering stench of body odor preceded him, gagging me. His lean muscles reminded me of a slender coil of rope, dangerous when pulled tight.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Nix demanded.

“That’s—what the hell do you think you’re doing, sir?” Janco corrected him. “We outrank you. And, I think a salute would be a nice touch.”

Nix sneered. “You’ll lose your promotion when your boss finds out you’re associating with a criminal. Whose brainless idea was it to make her into a more effective killer? When another dead body shows up, you’ll be accomplices.”

Janco took a menacing step toward Nix, but Ari’s meaty hand on his shoulder stopped him. With undertones of a threat laced into his voice, Ari said, “What we do with our free time is none of your business. Now, why don’t you shuffle off to Parffet. I saw him heading toward the latrines. He’ll need you to wipe his ass soon. It’s the one skill you’re most suited for.”

Nix was outnumbered, but he couldn’t resist a parting shot. “She has a history of killing her benefactor. I’d watch my necks if I were you.”

Ari’s and Janco’s eyes stayed on Nix’s back until he left the yard. Then they turned to me.

“That’s a good start,” Ari said, ending the lesson. “See you tomorrow at dawn.”

“What about Nix?” I asked.

“No problem. We can take care of him.” Ari shrugged it off, confident in his ability to deal with Nix. I envied Ari’s self-assurance and physical power. I didn’t think I could handle Nix, and I wondered if there was another reason, besides killing Reyad, that made Nix hate me.

“I taste the Commander’s breakfast at dawn,” I said.

“Then right after.”

“What for?” I asked.

“The soldiers run laps around the compound to keep in shape,” Janco answered.

“Join them,” Ari said. “Do at least five circuits. More if you’re able. We’ll increase the amount until you’ve caught up to us.”

“How many laps do you run?”

“Fifty.”

I gulped. As I returned to the castle, I thought of the work and time I would need to devote to training. Learning self-defense would require the same commitment I had applied to my acrobatics. I couldn’t go halfway. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. I had been giddy with fairy-tale visions of easily fighting off Brazell’s guards. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this wasn’t something to do on a whim.

I wondered if I would be better off spending my time learning about poisons and magic. In the end, all the physical training in the world wouldn’t save me from Irys’s magical powers.

My feet dragged on the ground, and my body felt as if it were pulling a wagon full of stones. Why couldn’t I just go for it? Why was I constantly considering each option, searching both sides of an argument for gaps in the logic? Like somersaulting on the trampoline, plenty of ups and downs but no forward motion. I longed for the days when a wrong decision wouldn’t cost me my life.

By the time I reached the Commander’s office, I had concluded that I had other enemies besides the magician, and being able to defend myself might save my life someday. Knowledge, whatever the form, could be as effective as a weapon.

Soon after I arrived, one of the tutors bustled into the office, dragging a young girl with him. At age twelve every child was assigned a profession based on their capabilities, and then they were sent to the appropriate tutor for four years to learn.

The tutor’s red uniform had black diamonds stitched on the collar, making it the direct opposite of an adviser’s black uniform. The girl wore the simple red jumper of a student. Her brown eyes were shiny with unshed tears. Her facial expressions alternated between terror and defiance as she battled to compose herself. I guessed she was about fifteen years old.

“What’s the problem, Beevan?” the Commander asked, annoyance tainting his voice.

“This disobedient child is a constant disruption to my class.”

“In what way?”

“Mia is a know-it-all. She refuses to solve mathematical problems in the traditional manner and has the gall to correct me in front of the entire class.”

“Why are you here?”

“I want her disciplined. Whipped, preferably, and reassigned as a servant.”

Beevan’s request caused silent tears to spill down Mia’s cheeks, although she maintained her composure, which was impressive for someone so young.

The Commander steepled his fingers, considering. I cringed for the girl, having her tutor bother the Commander for this dispute would not help her. Beevan must have gone over the training coordinator.

“I’ll handle it,” the Commander finally said. “You’re dismissed.”

Beevan wavered for a moment, opening and closing his mouth several times. His pinched expression revealed that this was not the response he had expected. Nodding stiffly, he left the office.

The Commander pushed his chair away from the desk and gestured to Mia to come around. Now eye level with her, he asked, “What’s your side of the story?”

With a thin quavering voice, she answered, “I’m good with numbers, Sir.” She hesitated as if expecting to be corrected for making a bold statement, but, when none came, she continued, “I was bored solving mathematical problems Tutor Beevan’s way, so I invented new and faster ways. He’s not good with numbers, Sir.” Again she stopped, flinching as though she was anticipating a blow. “I made the mistake of pointing out his errors. I’m sorry, Sir. Please don’t whip me, Sir. I’ll never do it again, Sir. I’ll follow Tutor Beevan’s every command.” Tears flowed down her bright pink cheeks.

“No, you won’t,” the Commander replied.

Terror gripped the girl’s face.

“Relax, child. Yelena?”

Startled, I spilled some of his tea. I had been holding his tray. “Yes, Sir.”

“Fetch Adviser Watts.”

“Yes, Sir.” I put the tray on the desk and hurried through the door. I had met Watts once. He was the Commander’s accountant, who had given me the money I had earned playing fugitive. He was working at his desk, but immediately followed me back to the office.

“Watts, do you still need an assistant?” the Commander asked.

“Yes, Sir,” Watts replied.

“Mia, you have one day to prove yourself. If you don’t dazzle Adviser Watts with your mathematical skills, then you’ll have to return to Beevan’s class. If you do, then you can have the job. Agreed?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Mia’s pretty face was radiant as she trailed behind Watts.

I marveled at the Commander. Being compassionate, hearing Mia’s side of the story, and giving her a chance, were the exact opposite of how I imagined the encounter would play out. Why would a man with such power take the time to go that extra step? He risked upsetting Beevan and the coordinator. Why would he bother to encourage a student?

His stack of reports reclaimed the Commander’s attention, so I slipped out the door, heading toward the library to continue my research.

After a while, the sun began to set. I picked out a promising botany book to take with me as I was reluctant to have a lantern light betray my presence in the library.

The candlelight cast a dismal glow in the corridors. I watched my shadow glide along the walls as I headed for Valek’s suite, wondering if I should move back to my old room in the servants’ wing. Now that Brazell was gone, there was no logical reason for me to remain with Valek. But the thought of living in that small room, where I wouldn’t have anyone to argue with or to discuss poisoning methods with, left a hollow feeling inside me. That same empty pang I’d been having on and off these last four days.

Only the cold darkness greeted me when I entered Valek’s suite. My disappointment surprised me, and I realized I had been missing him. I shook my head at the foreign concept. Me? Miss Valek? No. I couldn’t allow myself to think that way.

Instead, I focused on my survival. If I wanted to discover an antidote to Butterfly’s Dust, paging through books on counteracting poisons while sitting in Valek’s living room wouldn’t be the smartest idea. Of course, the decision might not be mine to make. Once Valek found out Brazell had gone, he’d probably order me to move back anyway.

After I had lit the lanterns in Valek’s suite, I relaxed on the couch with the botany book. Biology had never been a favorite subject of mine, and I soon found my mind wandering. My weak efforts to remain focused were lost to my daydreams.

A muffled slam brought my attention back to the present. It sounded like a book hitting the floor. I glanced down, but my volume remained in my lap, opened to a particularly boring passage about fruit trees. I scanned the living room to see if one of Valek’s untidy piles of books had fallen over. Sighing at his mess, I couldn’t tell if something had toppled or not.

A frightening thought crept into my mind. Maybe the noise had come from upstairs. Maybe it hadn’t been a book but a person. Someone sneaking in to wait until I fell asleep to kill me. Unable to sit still, I grabbed a lantern and dashed into my room.

My backpack rested on the bureau. Rand hadn’t asked for his knife yet, so I hadn’t returned it. Pulling the blade from the pack, Ari’s words about misusing a weapon flew through my mind. It was probably foolish to take the knife, but I felt more confident with it in my hand. Armed, I returned to the living room and considered my next move. Sleep would be impossible tonight until I investigated the upstairs rooms.

Blackness from above pressed down on my meager light as I ascended the staircase. Curving to the right, the stairs ended in a sitting room. Piles of boxes, books and furniture were scattered throughout the room in a haphazard fashion, casting odd-shaped shadows on the walls. I maneuvered with caution around the heaps. My blood slammed in my heart as I shone my lantern into dark corners, searching for an ambush.

A flash of light caused a yip to escape my lips. I spun, only to discover it was my own lantern reflecting in the tall thin windows that striped the far wall.

Three rooms were located to the right of the sitting chamber. A quick heart-pumping check of the box-filled rooms revealed they were empty of ambushers and identical to the three off the downstairs living area.

To the left of the upstairs sitting area was a long hallway. Doorways lined the right side of the corridor opposite a smooth stone wall. The hall ended in a set of locked double wooden doors. Carved into the ebony wood was an elaborate hunting scene. By the thin coating of white powder on the floor beneath the doors, I guessed this was the entrance to Valek’s bedroom. The powder would show footprints, alerting Valek to an intruder. I breathed easier seeing the powder undisturbed.

As I systematically checked the remaining rooms along the corridor, the growing realization that Valek was a true pack rat struck me. I had always imagined assassins as creatures of the dark, traveling light and never staying in one place for too long. Valek’s suite resembled the house of an old married couple who had filled their rooms with all the things they had collected over the years.

Distracted by these thoughts, I opened the last doorway. It took me some time to properly register what I saw. Compared to the others, the room was barren. One long table lined the back wall, centered under a large, teardrop-shaped window. Gray rocks streaked with white—the same stones I had been tripping over in Valek’s living room and office for the past month and a half—were arranged by size on the floor.

A thick layer of dust scrunched under my boots when I walked into the room. On the table, carving chisels, metal sanding files and a grinding wheel occupied the only dust-free spots. Small statues in various stages of creation were interspersed among the tools. To my delight, I realized that the gray rocks, when carved and polished, metamorphosed into a beautiful, lustrous black, and the white streaks transformed into brilliant silver.

Setting the lantern on the table, I picked up a finished Butterfly with silver spots sparkling from its wings. It fit into the palm of my hand. The detail was so exquisite that it appeared the Butterfly might beat its wings and lift into the air at any moment. I admired the other statues. The same devoted care had been applied to each. Lifelike animals, insects and flowers lined the table; apparently, nature provided the artist’s favorite subjects.

Stunned, I realized Valek must be the artist. Here was a side of Valek I never imagined existed. I felt as though I had intruded upon his most personal secret. As if I had uncovered a wife and children living up here in happy seclusion, complete with the family dog.

I had noticed the figurines on Valek’s desk and, at least once a day, I glanced at the snow cat in the Commander’s office, attempting to understand why he had selected that particular statue for display. I now understood its significance. Valek had carved it for the Commander.

The shuffle of feet made me whirl around. A black shape rushed me. My knife was yanked from my grasp and pressed against my neck. Fear clenched my throat tight, suffocating me. The familiar feeling triggered a sudden flashback of soldiers disarming and dragging me off Reyad’s dead body. But Valek’s face showed mirth instead of wrath.

“Snooping?” Valek asked, stepping back.

With effort, I banished my fear and remembered to start breathing again. “I heard a noise. I came to…”

“Investigate.” Valek finished my sentence. “Searching for an intruder is different from examining statues.” He pointed with the knife to the Butterfly clutched in my hand. “You were snooping.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Curiosity is a commendable trait. I wondered when you would explore up here. Find anything interesting?”

I held up the Butterfly. “It’s beautiful.”

He shrugged. “Carving focuses my mind.”

I placed the statue on the table, my hand lingering over it. I would have enjoyed studying the Butterfly in the sunlight. Grabbing the lantern, I followed Valek from the room.

“I really did hear a noise,” I said.

“I know. I knocked a book over to see what you would do. I didn’t expect a knife, though. Is it the one missing from the kitchen?”

“Did Rand report it?” I felt betrayed. Why hadn’t he just asked for it back?

“No. It just makes sense to keep track of large kitchen knives, so when one goes missing you’re not surprised when someone attacks you with it.” Valek handed the knife back. “You should return it. Knives won’t help you against the caliber of people after you.”

Valek and I descended the stairs. I lifted the botany book from the couch.

“What does the Commander think of the pods?” Valek asked.

“He thinks they’re from Sitia. He returned them to me so I could discover what they are. I’ve been doing research in the library.” I showed Valek the book.

He took it from me and flipped through the pages. “Find anything?”

“Not yet.”

“Your actions as our fugitive must have impressed the Commander. Normally, he would have assigned this sort of thing to one of his science advisers.”

Valek’s words made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t convinced that I could discover the origin of the pods and beans. The idea of failing the Commander made me queasy. I changed the subject. “Where did the caravan go?”

Valek paused, undecided. Finally, he said, “Brazell’s new factory.” If Valek had been surprised by his discovery, it didn’t show on his face.

It occurred to me that despite all the discussion about Brazell’s permit, I didn’t know what he was planning to make. “What’s the product?”

“It’s supposed to be a feed mill.” Valek handed the book back to me. “And I don’t know why he would need those pods and beans. Maybe they’re a secret ingredient. Maybe they’re added to the feed to enhance the cow’s milk supply. Then every farmer would buy Brazell’s feed instead of growing his own. Or something along that line. Or maybe not. I’m not an expert.” Valek pulled at his hair. “I’ll have to study his permit to see what I’m missing. Either way, I assigned some of my corps to stake out the route and infiltrate the factory. At this point I need more information.”

“Brazell left the castle this afternoon.”

“I passed his retinue on my way back. Good. One less thing to worry about.”

Valek crossed to his desk and began sorting through his papers. I watched his back for a while, waiting. He didn’t mention my moving out. I finally worked up the nerve to ask. “Should I return to my old room now that Brazell’s gone?” I berated myself for my choice of words. I should have been firmer, but it was too late.

Valek stopped. I held my breath.

“No,” he said. “You’re still in danger. The magician hasn’t been dealt with yet.” His pen resumed its course over the paper.

Strong relief flushed through my body like a hot wave, alarming me. Why did I want to stay with him? Remaining was dangerous, illogical, and, by every argument I could muster, the worst situation for me. The book on magic was still hidden in my backpack, which went with me everywhere because I feared Valek would pull one of his stunts and surprise me.

Damn it, I thought, angry at myself. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about. I shouldn’t miss Valek; I should try harder to escape. I shouldn’t figure out the bean puzzle; I should sabotage it. I shouldn’t admire and respect him; I should vilify him. Shouldn’t, should, shouldn’t, should. So easy to say but so hard to believe.

“Exactly how do you deal with a magician?” I asked.

He turned around in his seat and looked at me. “I’ve told you before.”

“But their powers…”

“Have no effect on me. When I get close, I can feel their power pressing and vibrating on my skin, and moving toward them is like walking through thick syrup. It takes effort, but I always win in the end. Always.”

“How close?” Valek had been in the castle both times I had unknowingly used magic. Did Valek suspect?

“I have to be in the same room,” Valek said.

Relief washed through me. He didn’t know. At least, not yet. “Why didn’t you kill the southern magician at the festival?” I asked.

“Yelena, I’m not invincible. Fighting four men while she threw every ounce of her power at me was exhausting. Chasing her down would have been a fruitless endeavor.”

I thought about what he said. “Is being resistant to magic a form of magic?” I asked.

“No.” Valek’s face hardened.

“What about the knife?” I pointed to the long blade hanging on the wall. The crimson blood gleamed in the lantern light. In the three weeks I’d lived in Valek’s suite, it hadn’t dried.

Valek laughed. “That was the knife I used to kill the King. He was a magician. When his magic couldn’t stop me from plunging that knife into his heart, he cursed me with his dying breath. It was rather melodramatic. He willed that I should be plagued with guilt over his murder and have his blood stain my hands forever. With my peculiar immunity to magic, the curse attached to the knife instead of me.” Valek looked at the weapons wall thoughtfully. “It was a shame to lose my favorite blade, but it does make for a nice trophy.”

18

MY LUNGS BLAZED. Flushed and sweat-soaked, I lagged behind the main group of soldiers, my throat burning with every gasp. It was my fourth lap around the castle complex. One more to go.

I had hovered by the northeast barracks right after tasting the Commander’s breakfast. When a large clump of soldiers ran past, I spotted Ari, who waved me to join in. I worried that the other guards would resent my presence, but there were servants, stable boys and other castle workers mixed in with the soldiers.

The first two laps quickened my pulse and shortened my breath. Pain began in my feet during the third lap and traveled up my legs by the fourth. My surroundings blurred until all I saw was the small patch of ground right in front of me. When I limped to my finishing point, ending my agony, I found a thick row of hedges and threw up my breakfast of sweet cakes. Straightening, I saw a grinning Janco give me a thumbs-up as he jogged by. He didn’t even have the decency to look winded, and his shirt was still dry.

As I wiped vomit off my lip, Ari paused beside me. “Training yard, two o’clock. See you then,” he said.

“But…” I said to nobody as Ari jogged away. I could hardly stand, I couldn’t imagine doing anything more strenuous.

In the training yard that afternoon, Ari and Janco leaned against the fence watching two men sparring with swords. The loud ring of metal striking metal echoed. The fighters had drawn the attention of every soldier. I realized with surprise that one of the men was Valek. I hadn’t seen him since early that morning, and I had assumed he was resting after being up late the night before.

Valek was liquid in motion. As I watched him, one word came to my mind: beautiful. His movements had the speed and cadence of a complex dance performance. In comparison, his adversary resembled a newborn colt, lurching and jerking his arms and legs as if this were his first time on his feet. Valek’s smooth lunges and graceful parries disarmed his opponent in no time.

Pointing with his sword, he sent his beaten foe to a small group of men, and motioned for another to attack.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Valek’s challenge,” Janco said.

“What’s that?”

“Valek has declared a challenge to anyone in Ixia. Beat him in a fight with the weapon of your choice, or hand to hand, and you can be promoted to his second-in-command.” Ari gestured to Valek, now engaged in combat with a third man. “It’s become a sort of graduation from basic training for the soldiers to fight Valek at least once, although you can try as many times as you like. The Captains watch the matches and recruit the more promising soldiers. And if you manage to impress Valek with your skills, he may offer you a post in his elite intelligence corps.”

“How did you guys do?” I asked.

“Okay,” Ari demurred.

“Okay!” Janco snorted. “Ari came close to beating him. Valek was pleased. But Ari would rather be a scout than a spy.”

“I want all or nothing,” Ari said with a quiet intensity.

We continued to watch. Ari and Janco made technical comments about the different fights, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from Valek. With the sunlight glinting off his sword, he dispatched two more men. He tapped them with the flat of his weapon, just to let them know he had broken through their defenses without shedding any blood. The next opponent approached with a knife.

“Bad choice,” Ari said.

Valek put down his sword and unsheathed his blade. The match was over in two moves.

“Valek excels in knife fighting,” Janco commented.

The last challenger was a woman. Tall and agile, she wielded a long wooden staff. Ari called it a bow. She held her own against Valek, and their sparring lasted longer than any of the previous six fights. With a loud crack, her bow snapped in two, ending the match. As the crowd dispersed, Valek spoke with the woman.

“That’s Maren,” Ari said. “If she doesn’t disappear into Valek’s corps, you should ask her to teach you the bow. With your smaller size, it would extend your reach against a taller attacker.”

“But you can’t conceal a bow,” I said.

“Not around the castle. But if you’re hiking through the woods, you wouldn’t look out of place holding a walking stick.”

I looked at Maren and considered the possibilities. Would she agree to help me? Probably not. What would she stand to gain?

As if reading my thoughts, Ari said, “Maren’s aggressive and encouraging. Every new female recruit gets her personal attention whether they want it or not. Since so many women fail due to the rigors of training, she tries to coach them through. We’ve more women in the guard now than ever because of her. We tried to get her to teach us—a bow would make a good weapon for a scout—but she has no interest in training men.”

“But I’m not a new recruit, I’m the food taster. Why would she waste her time with me? I might be dead by tomorrow.”

“Aren’t we grumpy today,” Janco said cheerfully. “Too much exercise this morning?”

“Shut up,” I said. Unfazed, his grin only widened.

“All right, that’s enough. Let’s get started,” Ari said.

I spent the rest of the afternoon learning to punch someone without breaking my hand and practicing the proper technique of kicking. The first two knuckles of both hands turned bright red as I punched into a training bag over and over. Mastering the front kick was a challenge since my stiff thigh muscles hindered my flexibility.

When Ari finally dismissed me, I aimed my battered body toward the castle.

“See you in the morning,” Janco said with a gleeful sound in his voice.

I turned to tell him where to stick it and came face-to-face with Valek. I held my breath. He had been watching us. I felt self-conscious.

“Your punches are slow,” he said. Taking my hand, he examined the bruises, which were starting to purple. “At least your technique is good. If you hold weights in your hands while you train, your punches will be much quicker without them.”

“I can continue?” I asked in disbelief.

He still held on to my hand, and I couldn’t summon the willpower to pull it back. The warmth of his touch coursed through my body, temporarily vanquishing my aches and pains.

With the memory of his stunning physical display fresh in my mind, I gazed at his strong face. His flashing and dangerous blue eyes had always taken my attention. I had learned to read his facial expressions as a survival tactic but I had never really looked at him in this way before. He was a study in contradiction. The man who carved delicate statues was also capable of disarming seven opponents without breaking a sweat. My interactions with Valek resembled a performance on the tightrope. One minute I was confident and balanced, and the next insecure and unstable.

“I think it’s an excellent idea,” he said. “How did you get the power twins to agree to teach you?”

“Power twins?”

“Combine Ari’s strength with Janco’s speed, and they would be unbeatable. But, so far, I haven’t had to test my theory since they haven’t tried to fight me together. No one said I couldn’t have more than one second-in-command. You’re not going to give me away, are you?”

“No.”

Valek gave my hand a small squeeze, and then released his grip. “Good. They’re probably the best instructors at the castle. How did you meet them?”

“They were the men who found me in the forest. The Commander promoted them, and I took advantage of their gratitude.” My hand tingled where he had touched it.

“Opportunistic and underhanded, I love it.” Valek laughed. He was in a good mood as he walked beside me to the castle. Probably a rush from beating so many opponents. Before we reached the east entrance, he stopped. “There’s one problem.”

My heartbeat increased to double time. “What?”

“You shouldn’t train so visibly. Word spreads quickly. If Brazell finds out and makes a fuss, the Commander will order you to stop. And it’ll make the Commander suspicious.”

We entered the cool, dark air of the castle. It was a relief to be out of the hot sun.

“Why don’t you make use of all those empty storerooms in the lower level of the castle? You can still run laps in the morning for exercise,” Valek said.

Great, I thought sarcastically, jogging was the one aspect of training I would have been willing to give up. However, Valek was right, working with Ari and Janco in the middle of the yard had already attracted negative attention. Mainly Nix, whose scowls and nasty glares burned on my skin.

Valek was quiet as we traveled through the castle. I was headed to the Commander’s office to taste his dinner. He walked with me.

“Mentioning Brazell reminds me that I’ve been wanting to ask you about that Criollo that the Commander enjoys. Do you like the taste of it?”

I chose my words with care. “Yes, it’s an excellent dessert.”

“If you stopped eating it, how would you feel?”

“Well…” I hesitated, unsure where this conversation was leading. “Truthfully, I would be disappointed. I look forward to eating a piece every morning.”

“Have you ever craved the Criollo?” Valek inquired.

I finally understood where his pointed questions were leading. “Like an addiction?”

He nodded.

“I don’t think so, but…”

“But what?”

“I only eat it once a day. The Commander has a piece after every meal, including his evening snack. Why this sudden concern?” I asked.

“Just a feeling. It might be nothing.” Valek was silent during the rest of the trip.

“Well, Valek, any new promotions?” the Commander asked as we entered his office.

“No. But Maren shows promise. Unfortunately she doesn’t want to be in my corps or even be my second. She just wants to beat me.” Valek grinned, delighted by the challenge.

“And can she?” the Commander inquired. His eyebrows rose.

“With time and the proper training. She’s deadly with her bow; it’s just her tactics that need work.”

“Then what do we do with her?”

“Promote her to General and retire some of those old windbags. We could use some fresh blood in the upper ranks.”

“Valek, you never had a good grasp of military structure.”

“Then promote her to First Lieutenant today, Captain tomorrow, Major the next day, Colonel the day after, and General the day after that.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.” The Commander flashed me an annoyed glance. I was dawdling, and he had noticed.

“Anything else?” he asked Valek.

I finished tasting, placed the Commander’s tray on the desk, and headed for the door.

Valek grabbed my arm. “I’d like to try an experiment. I want Yelena to taste the Criollo every time you do for a week, then the next week I’ll taste it for you. I want to see if anything happens to her when she stops eating the dessert.”

“No.” The Commander raised a hand when Valek started to argue. “I recognize your concern, but I think it’s misplaced.”

“Humor me.”

“We can try your experiment once Rand duplicates the recipe from General Brazell. Acceptable?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. I want you to join me in a meeting with General Kitvivan. We’re just starting the cooling season, and he’s already worried about snow cats.” The Commander’s eyes found me. “Yelena, you’re dismissed.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said.

After stopping at the baths to wash, I visited the kitchen to borrow a large sieve and bowl, which I carried to the library. The remaining four pods had turned brown and were starting to rot, so I opened them, scraped out the browning pulp and seeds into the colander, and placed it into the bowl. Its bottom and sides were suspended above the inside of the bowl by the metal handles. The strong odor from the seeds permeated the room. I set the bowl on the windowsill, and opened the window to air out the smell. My experiment wasn’t based on any scientific research; I just wanted to see if the pulp would ferment. Maybe Brazell was using it to make some kind of alcoholic beverage.

My careful reading of the various botany books hadn’t revealed anything useful so far. The poison books, while interesting, had made no mention of Butterfly’s Dust. In four different volumes on poisons, I had discovered missing pages. Poking up from the binding were ragged edges where the paper had been ripped out. Valek had probably removed all pertinent information long ago in anticipation of the food tasters’ keen interest in Butterfly’s Dust.

Sighing, I piled the books at the end of my table. I knew Valek was attending the Commander’s meeting, so I slid the book of magic out of my backpack. The silver lettering of the title glinted. My stomach knotted.

Opening the slim volume, I began to read a technical discussion of the source of a magician’s power. Unable to understand all of the detailed descriptions, I only sensed that the power source blanketed the entire world, making it accessible from anywhere.

The magicians used this power in different ways, depending on their talents. Some could move objects, while others could read and influence minds. Healing, lighting fires and mental communication were also magical skills. Some could only do one thing, but the stronger the magician, the more the magician could do. A weaker magician could only read someone’s mind, while a more powerful one could not only read but communicate and even control someone’s mind. I shuddered at the thought of Irys controlling my mind.

But the magicians had to be careful when drawing power. By pulling on the source too hard or misusing it, a magician could cause creases that would set off a ripple effect. This effect, or warping, would concentrate power in certain areas and leave other places bare. Fluctuating unpredictably, another wave might reverse the amount of power available. In order to tap the power, the magicians would have to seek areas of power, but once they found a pocket, they wouldn’t know how long it would remain.

The book chronicled a time when a strong magician had tapped into the source, pulling it toward him. Because he was so powerful he was able to control the blanket without causing an explosion. The other magicians were then uncovered. Stripped of their power, they united and searched for him. Once found, and after a battle that left many dead, they tapped into his stolen source, and killed him. Eventually, the blanket had smoothed out and returned to normal, but that had taken over two hundred years.

Fingering the raised lettering on the cover, I now understood why Irys had been so determined that I should either be trained or be killed. When my magic reached a flameout, it would cause major ripples in the blanket of power. I sank deep into my chair, disappointed that the book hadn’t contained magic spells or lessons. I had been hoping for an answer. Something along the lines of: this is why you have the power, here’s how you use it, and while we’re at it, this is how to conjure up the antidote to Butterfly’s Dust.

It had been wishful thinking, plain and simple, dangerous for me to indulge in. Hope, happiness and freedom were not in my future. They had never been, not even as an ignorant child in Brazell’s orphanage. While hoping for a normal life, I had been raised as a laboratory rat for his experiments.

I slumped in my chair until the sun set, allowing self-pity to run its course. When the muscles in my legs began to throb with inactivity, I stood and physically shook off my gloom. If I couldn’t find the antidote in the books, I would find it another way. Someone had to know something. There had been food tasters on Commander Ambrose’s staff for fifteen years. If no one could help me, then I would try another way, perhaps stealing the antidote or following Valek to its source. Skills I lacked, but I was determined to learn.

The next morning, prepared with an empty stomach, I joined in the flow of jogging soldiers. Ari and Janco breezed past me. Janco flashed a jaunty wave and mischievous smile. Later, when I heard heavy steps pounding behind me, I assumed Janco was up to no good.

I moved aside to let him pass, but the runner stayed close on my heels. I glanced back in time to see Nix thrust his arms out. His hands connected with my back. I fell forward, crashing to the ground. As Nix ran over me, his boot slammed into my solar plexus, knocking the wind out of me.

Pain bloomed in my chest. I gasped for breath while curled in a fetal position on the ground. Once I regained my wind, I pushed myself to a sitting position. The flow of soldiers remained unabated, and I wondered if anyone had witnessed what that bastard had done.

If he was trying to discourage me, he was going about it the wrong way. Nix had just increased my resolve to learn self-defense so I didn’t fall victim to mongrels like him. I stood up and waited for Nix’s next circuit, but he never came back.

Ari stopped. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Nix, like Margg, was my problem. If I didn’t deal with him, he would never leave me alone. A tingle of doubt touched my stomach. It had been that kind of thinking that had landed me in the dungeon, awaiting execution.

“Your face is covered with blood,” Ari said.

I wiped the blood on my sleeve. “I fell.”

Before he could question me further, I changed the subject by giving him something else to think about. I repeated Valek’s advice about concealing our training sessions; Ari agreed that it was prudent to go “underground.” He offered to scout out a suitable location.

“You’re Maren, right?” I asked between gasps for air. I had been running laps for a week, and this morning I had timed my pace to run beside Maren.

She shot me a quick, appraising glance. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Wide muscular shoulders atop a thin waist made her figure appear disproportionate. She moved with athletic ease, and I had to scramble to keep up with her long, loping strides.

“And you’re the Puker,” Maren said.

It was an insult aimed with a purpose; her interest in my response was keen. If she had wanted to dismiss me, she would have made her comment and sprinted away, not bothering to watch for a reaction.

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Why do you do it?” Maren asked.

“What?”

“Run till you’re sick.”

“Five circuits were assigned. I don’t like to fail.” I received another measuring look. With my words coming out as huffs, I knew I wouldn’t be able to maintain a conversation for long. “I watched you fight Valek. I’ve heard you’re the best with a bow. I want to learn to use one.”

Her pace slowed. “Who told you that?”

“Ari and Janco.”

Maren snorted as if she thought a con artist had duped me. “Friends of yours?”

“Yes.”

Her mouth formed a small o as she made a mental connection. “They found you in the forest. It’s rumored they were training you to fight but you quit. Are they foisting you off on me?”

“The problem with rumors—” I panted “—is the difficulty in sorting the truth from the lies.”

“And the reason I’m willing to donate my time?”

I had anticipated this question. “Information.”

“About what?”

“You want to beat Valek, right?”

Her gray eyes focused on me like two sword points pressing against my skin.

With the last of my breath, I wheezed out, “Come to the east entrance of the castle this afternoon at two and I’ll tell you.” Unable to keep up with her any longer, I slowed down. She pulled ahead. I lost sight of her in the press of soldiers.

Throughout the rest of the morning, I replayed the conversation in my mind, trying to guess her response as I tasted the Commander’s meals. At two o’clock, I waited in the castle’s east doorway, chewing on my lip. Ari and Janco had spread a rumor that my training had stopped. I’d taken a considerable risk by indicating to Maren that this might not be true. When I spotted a tall figure carrying two bows heading in my direction, my anxiety eased a little.

Maren paused when she entered the corridor. She spotted me leaning against the wall.

Before she could comment, I said, “Follow me.” I led her to a deserted hallway where Janco and Ari waited.

“I guess gossip is not to be trusted,” Maren said to Ari.

“No. But there are certain rumors we would like to keep as is.” A thinly disguised threat laced Ari’s words.

Maren ignored him. “Okay, Puker, what’s your information? And it better be good or I’m walking.”

Ari’s face reddened and I could see that he bit back a remark. Janco, as always, grinned in anticipation.

“Well, as I see it, the four of us can help each other out. Ari, Janco and I want to learn how to fight with the bow. You want to beat Valek. Working together, we may be able to achieve our goals.”

“How’s my teaching you going to help in a match against Valek?” Maren asked.

“You’re skilled with the bow, but your fighting tactics need work. Ari and Janco can help you with that.”

“One week of training and the Puker thinks she’s an expert,” Maren said to Ari with an incredulous voice. He remained mute, but his face darkened.

“I’m not an expert, but Valek is.”

She shot me a cold stare. “He said that? About me?”

I nodded.

“So I teach bow, and Ari and Jan teach tactics. What’s your contribution?”

I gestured to the four of us. “This. And…” I hesitated, unsure if my next statement would have any sway. “I could teach you some flips, and help you to gain greater flexibility and balance that might benefit you in a fight.”

“Damn.” Janco was impressed. “She’s got you there. And four does make for a better training group than three.”

Annoyed, Maren shifted her focus to Janco. He smiled sweetly at her.

“All right, I’ll try it on a temporary basis. If it doesn’t work, I’m walking.” Before anyone could interject, she said, “Don’t worry. I may listen to the rumor mill, but I don’t participate in it.”

Once we shook hands on the arrangement, my apprehension dissipated. We showed her where we had been meeting for the last week.

“Cozy,” Maren said as she entered our training room.

Ari had found an abandoned storeroom on the lower level in the deserted southwest corner of the castle. Two windows near the ceiling let in enough light to work by.

We spent the remaining time practicing the rudiments of bow fighting.

“Not bad, Puker,” Maren said at the end of the session. “I see some potential.”

When she picked up her bows to leave, Ari placed a large hand on her shoulder. “Her name’s Yelena. If you don’t want to call her by her name, then don’t come back tomorrow.”

I could see my astonished expression mirrored on Maren’s face, but she recovered quicker than I did. Nodding curtly, she shook off Ari’s hand and walked away. I wondered if she would join us again.

She returned the next day, and showed up without fail for the next two months as we trained together throughout the cooling season. The air held a fresh crisp scent, and true to the season’s name, each day grew cooler than the last. The bright flowers of the hot season wilted while the trees turned orange, russet and finally brown. The leaves dropped to the ground and were blown away by the frequent rainstorms.

My research on the pods had stalled, but Valek appeared unconcerned by my lack of progress. On occasion he observed us training, and he would comment and make suggestions.

Nix continued to plague me during my morning run. He threw rocks, he spat on me and tripped me. I had to change my routine to avoid him by running laps around the outer wall of the castle complex. My defensive abilities were still in the beginning stages, and not sufficient for a confrontation with Nix. At least, not yet. There were advantages to running outside the complex. The smooth grass was softer on my feet than the dirt path inside the complex, and by jogging before dawn, I encountered no one, which added to the deception that I had quit training.

At the end of the cooling season, the hours of daylight shortened, and our training sessions ended with the setting sun. In the semidarkness of twilight I headed to the baths, moving with care to accommodate my bruised ribs. Janco, that annoying jackrabbit, had gotten through my defenses with his speedy little jabs.

As I approached the entrance to the baths, a large shadow detached from the stone wall. Alarmed, I stepped back into a fighting stance. Fear, excitement and doubt raced through my body. Would I need to defend myself? Could I do it? Should I run?

Margg’s ample shape coalesced out of the shadows, and I relaxed a bit.

“What do you want?” I asked. “Are you running another errand for your master like a good doggie?”

“Better than being a rat caught in a trap.”

I brushed past her. Exchanging insults, while enjoyable, was a waste of my time.

“Would the rat like some cheese?” she asked.

I turned. “What?”

“Cheese. Money. Gold. I bet you’re the kind of rat that would do anything for a piece of cheese.”

19

“WHAT WOULD I HAVE TO DO to get a piece of cheese?” I asked. I knew it! Margg was the one leaking information about me, and now she wanted to use me. Finally, some evidence.

“I have a source that pays well for information. It’s the perfect setup for a little rat,” Margg said.

“What kind of information?”

“Anything you might overhear while you’re scurrying around the Commander’s office or Valek’s apartment. My contact pays on a sliding scale; the juicier the news, the bigger the chunk of cheese.”

“How does it work?” My mind raced. Right now it was her word against mine. I needed proof I could show Valek. To be able to finger both Margg and her source would be a sweet treat.

“You give me the information,” she said, “and I pass it along. I collect the money, and give it to you, minus a fifteen percent fee.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that you’d stick to fifteen percent cut of a total I’d be unaware of?”

She shrugged. “It’s either that or nothing. I’d think that a half-starved rat like you would pounce on any morsel, no matter how small.” Margg began to walk away.

“What if we went to your source together?” I suggested. “Then you’d still receive your fee.”

She stopped. Uncertainty creased her fleshy face. “I’ll have to check.” She disappeared down the hallway.

I lingered outside the baths for a while, considering the possibility of following Margg around for a couple of days, but dismissed the idea. If her contact didn’t like my suggestion, I’d scamper to Margg with my tail between my legs, begging for another chance. She’d enjoy that! Then I’d follow her. Revealing her as a traitor to Valek would be a pleasure.

My conversation with Margg had used up my bath time, so I headed to the Commander’s office. When I arrived, Sammy, Rand’s kitchen boy, hovered outside the closed door holding a tray of food. I could hear a muffled angry voice inside.

“What’s going on?” I asked Sammy.

“They’re arguing,” he said.

“Who?”

“The Commander and Valek.”

I took the tray of cooling food from Sammy. No reason we both had to be there. “Get going. I’m sure Rand needs you.”

Sammy smiled his relief and sprinted through the throne room. I’d seen the kitchen during dinnertime. Servers and cooks swarmed like bees with Rand directing the chaos. Barking orders, he controlled his kitchen staff like the queen bee of the hive.

Knowing the Commander disliked cold food, I stood close to his door, waiting for a break in the conversation. From my new position I could hear Valek clearly.

“Whatever possessed you to change your successor?” Valek demanded.

The Commander’s soft reply passed through the wooden door as an indecipherable murmur.

“In the fifteen years I’ve known you, you’ve never reversed a decision.” Valek’s tone became more reasonable. “This isn’t a ploy to discover your successor. I just want to know why you changed your mind. Why now?”

The response wasn’t to Valek’s liking. With a sarcastic jab in his voice, he said, “Always, Sir.”

Valek jerked the door open. I stumbled into the office.

He wore a glacial expression. Only his eyes showed his fury. They were pools of molten lava beneath an icy crust. “Yelena, where the hell have you been? The Commander’s waiting for his dinner.” Not expecting an answer, Valek strode briskly through the throne room. Advisers and soldiers melted from his path.

Valek’s anger seemed extreme. Everyone in Ixia knew that one of the eight Generals had been chosen as the Commander’s successor. In the typical paranoid custom of the Commander’s ruling, the name of the selected General was kept secret. Each General held an envelope that contained a piece of a puzzle. When the Commander died, they would assemble the puzzle to reveal an encrypted message. A key would be required to decipher the note. A key only Valek held. The chosen General would then have the complete support of the military and the Commander’s staff.

The theory behind the puzzle was that secrecy would prevent someone from staging a rebellion in support of the chosen heir, since the heir was unknown. The added risk that the inheritor might be even worse than the Commander was another deterrent. As far as I could see, a change in the chosen General probably wouldn’t affect day-to-day life in Ixia. We didn’t know who had been originally selected, so the switch would have no bearing until the Commander died.

I approached Commander Ambrose’s desk. He read his reports, unaffected by Valek’s rage. I performed a quick taste of his dinner; he thanked me for the food then ignored me.

On my way back to the baths, I wondered if the information I had just overheard would fetch a decent price from Margg’s contact. I quenched my curiosity; I had no desire to commit treason for money. I just wanted to get out of my present situation alive. And knowing Valek, I had no doubt that he would discover any clandestine meetings with Margg. For that reason alone, I had to prove that, no matter what Margg believed, I was not a spy. Just the mental vision of Valek’s burning eyes focused on me sent a hot bolt of fear through me.

A long soak in the bath eased my sore ribs. As it was still early in the evening, I thought it prudent to avoid Valek for a while. I stopped in the kitchen for a late dinner. After helping myself to the leftover roast meat and a hunk of bread, I carried my plate to where Rand worked. He had an array of bowls, pots and ingredients messily spread out on his table. Dark smudges rimmed his bloodshot eyes, and his brown hair stuck straight out where he had run his wet hands through it.

I found a stool and a clean corner on Rand’s table and ate my dinner.

“Did the Commander send you?” Rand asked.

“No. Why?”

“I finally received the Criollo recipe from Ving two days ago. I thought the Commander might be wondering about it.”

“He hasn’t said anything to me.”

Two large shipments of Criollo, sans the recipe, had arrived for the Commander since Brazell had left the castle. Each time, the Commander had responded with a “thank you” and another request for the formula. As the quantity received had been plentiful, the Commander had given Rand some Criollo to play with. Rand hadn’t disappointed. He had melted it, mixed it into hot drinks, invented new desserts, chipped it and remolded it into flowers and other edible decorations for cakes and pies.

I watched Rand stir a mahogany-colored batter with tight agitated movements. “How’s it going?” I asked.

“Horrible. I have repeatedly followed this recipe, and all I’ve gotten is this awful-tasting mud.” Rand banged the spoon on the bowl’s edge to knock off the pasty residue. “It won’t even solidify.” He handed me a sheet of once-white paper smeared with brown stains and flour. “Maybe you can see what I’m doing wrong.”

I studied the list of ingredients. It looked like a normal recipe, but I wasn’t a cooking expert. Tasting, on the other hand, was becoming my forte. I took a scoop of his batter and slid it onto my tongue. A sickeningly sweet flavor invaded my mouth. The texture was smooth and the batter coated my tongue like Criollo, but it lacked the nutty, slightly bitter taste that balanced the sweetness.

“Maybe the recipe’s wrong,” I said, handing the sheet back to Rand. “Put yourself in Ving’s position. Commander Ambrose loves Criollo, and you hold the only copy of the recipe. Would you give it away? Or would you use it to manipulate a transfer?”

Rand plopped wearily onto a stool. “What do I do? If I can’t make Criollo, the Commander will probably reassign me. It’ll be too much for my ego to stand.” He attempted a weak smile.

“Tell the Commander that the recipe’s a fake. Blame Ving for your inability to duplicate the Criollo.”

Sighing, Rand rubbed his face in his hands. “I can’t handle this type of political pressure.” He massaged his eyelids with the tips of his long fingers. “Right now, I’d kill for a cup of coffee, but I guess wine will have to do.” He rummaged around in the cabinet and produced a bottle and two glasses.

“Coffee?”

“You’re too young to remember, but before the takeover, we imported this absolutely wonderful drink from Sitia. When the Commander closed the border, we lost an endless list of luxury items. Of all those, I miss coffee the most.”

“What about the black market?” I asked.

Rand laughed. “It’s probably available. But there’s nowhere in this castle that I could make it without being discovered.”

“I’ll most likely regret asking you this, but why not?”

“The smell. The coffee’s rich and distinct aroma would give me away. The scent of brewing coffee can weave its way throughout the entire castle. I woke up to it every morning before the takeover.” Rand sighed again. “My mother’s job was to grind the coffee beans and fill the pots with water. It’s very similar to brewing tea, but the taste is far superior.”

I sat up straighter on my stool when I heard the word beans. “What color are coffee beans?”

“Brown. Why?”

“Just curious,” I said in a calm tone, but excitement boiled within me. My mystery beans were brown, and Brazell was old enough to know about coffee. Maybe he missed the drink, and planned to manufacture it.

My efforts to ferment the pod’s pulp had resulted in a thin chestnut-colored liquid that tasted rotten. The purple seeds inside the pulp had been sopping wet, and covered with flies. I had closed the window and dried the seeds on the windowsill. As they dried, the seeds turned to brown and looked and tasted like the beans from the caravan. Thrilled to link the pods with the beans, my excitement had faded when I hadn’t been able to learn anything further.

“Does coffee taste sweet?” I asked.

“No. It’s bitter. My mother used to add sugar and milk to half of her finished pots, but I liked it plain.”

My beans were bitter. I couldn’t sit still any longer; I had to find out if Valek remembered coffee. I felt uncomfortable asking Rand, unsure if Valek wanted him to know about the southern pods.

After bidding farewell to Rand, who stared morosely into the failed batter as he drank his wine, I rushed back to Valek’s suite. The sound of slamming books greeted my entrance. Valek stormed around the living room, kicking piles of books over. Gray rock debris littered the floor and clung to impact craters on the walls. He clenched a stone in each fist.

I had wanted to discuss my coffee hypothesis with him, but decided to wait. Unfortunately, Valek spotted me staring. “What do you want?” he snarled.

“Nothing,” I mumbled and fled to my room.

For three days, I endured Valek’s temper. He vented his ill humor on me at every opportunity. Thrusting the antidote at me, speaking curtly, if at all, and glaring whenever I entered a room. Weary of avoiding him and hiding in my room, I decided to approach him. He sat at his desk, his back to me.

“I may have discovered what those beans are.” It was a weak opening. What I really wanted to say was, “What the hell’s the matter with you?” But I thought a soft approach more prudent.

He swiveled to face me. The energy of his anger had dissipated, replaced by a bone-chilling cold. “Really?” His voice lacked conviction. The fire in his eyes had extinguished.

I stepped back. His indifference was more frightening than his anger. “I…” I swallowed, my mouth dry. “I was talking to Rand, and he mentioned missing coffee. Do you remember coffee? A southern drink.”

“No.”

“I think our beans might be coffee. If you don’t know what coffee is, perhaps I should show them to Rand. If that’s all right with you?” I faltered. My suggestion had sounded like a child pleading for a sweet. “Go ahead; share your ideas with Rand. Your buddy, your best friend. You’re just like him.” Icy sarcasm spiked Valek’s words.

I was stunned. “What?”

“Do as you like. I don’t care.” Valek turned his back on me.

I stumbled to my room, and then locked the door with shaky fingers. Leaning against the wall, I replayed the last week in my mind to see if there had been some clue to Valek’s withdrawal. I could remember nothing that stood out. We had barely said a word to each other, and I had believed his anger had been directed toward the Commander—until now.

Maybe he had discovered my magic book. Perhaps he suspected I had some magical power. Fear replaced my confusion. Lying on my bed that night, I stared at the door. With every nerve tingling, I waited for Valek’s attack. I knew I was overreacting, but I was unable to stop. I couldn’t erase the way he had looked at me as if I was already dead.

Dawn arrived, and I moved through my day like a zombie. Valek ignored me. Even Janco’s ever-present good humor couldn’t snap me out of my funk.

I waited a few days before bringing the beans along to show Rand. He was in better spirits. A big smile graced his face, and he greeted me with an offer of a cinnamon swirl.

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

“You haven’t eaten in days. What’s the matter?” Rand asked.

I dodged his question by asking about the Criollo.

“Your plan worked. I informed the Commander that Ving’s recipe was wrong. He said he’d take care of it. Then he inquired about the kitchen staff: were they working well? Did I need more help? I just stared at him because I felt like I was in the wrong room. I’m usually greeted with suspicion and dismissed with a threat.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good relationship.”

Rand stacked a few bowls and straightened a row of spoons. His smile faded. “My interaction with the Commander and Valek could be considered rocky at best. Being rather young and rebellious right after the takeover, I attempted every trick of sabotage possible. I served the Commander sour milk, stale bread, rotten vegetables and even raw meat. At that point, I was just looking to be a nuisance.” He picked up a spoon and tapped it against his knee. “It became a battle of wills. The Commander was determined that I cook for him, and I was determined to either be arrested or be reassigned.”

Thump, thump, thump went the spoon, and Rand continued his story, his voice husky. “Then Valek made my mother the food taster—that was before they implemented that damn Code of Behavior—I couldn’t bear to have her taste the garbage I served the Commander.” Old sorrows pulled at Rand’s features. He twirled the spoon in circles between his fingers.

Words failed me. Dread crept up my spine as I contemplated the fate of Rand’s mother.

“After the inevitable happened, I tried to run away, but they caught me just shy of the southern border.” Rand rubbed his left knee. “They shattered my kneecap, hobbling me like some damn horse. Threatened to do my other leg if I ran again. And here I am.” He snorted, sweeping all the spoons off the table. They clattered on the stone floor. “Shows you how much I’ve changed. The Commander’s nice to me and I’m happy. I used to dream of poisoning the bastard, of taking that final step in our battle. But I have this weakness of caring for the food taster. When Oscove died, I promised myself never to care again.” Rand pulled out a bottle of wine. “Only I failed. Again.” He retreated to his rooms.

I hunched over the table, regretting that my comment had caused Rand pain. My pockets bulged uncomfortably with the beans. I shifted in my seat. Liza would have good cause when she blamed this mood swing on me. Valek’s actions with Rand’s mother seemed harsh from Rand’s perspective, but when I thought about it from Valek’s point of view, it made sense. His job was to protect the Commander.

I lived the next two days in a fog. Events blurred together. Tasting, training, tasting, training. Ari’s and Janco’s curses and attempts to rouse me remained unsuccessful. The news that I could start knife defense failed to produce any enthusiasm. My body felt as wooden as the bow I held.

When Margg materialized after one of my training sessions to inform me that a meeting with her contact had been scheduled for the following evening, it was with great difficulty that I summoned the strength to rally.

I thought out each possible scenario, and each combination of events kept leading me to one conclusion. Who would believe me if I reported the meeting? No one. I needed a witness who could also act as a protector. Ari’s name sprang to mind. But I didn’t want any suspicion to fall on him if something went wrong. It was also possible that Margg’s contact had a boss, or a whole network of informers, and I could be getting in over my head. Dance as I might, there was but one course of action, and it led to but one person: Valek.

I dreaded the encounter. My interaction with him had dwindled to the silent awkward dispensing of my antidote every morning. But after tasting the Commander’s dinner, I sought Valek out, my stomach performing flips. His office was locked, so I tried his suite. He wasn’t in the living room, but I heard a faint sound from upstairs. A thin slash of light glowed under the door to Valek’s carving studio. A metallic grinding noise raised goose bumps on my flesh.

I faltered at the entrance. This was probably the worst time to disturb him, but I was to meet Margg’s contact the next day. I had no time to waste. Gathering courage, I knocked and opened the door without waiting for an answer.

Valek’s lantern flickered. He stopped grinding. The wheel spun in silence, reflecting pinpricks of light that whirled along the walls and ceiling.

He asked, “What is it?”

“I’ve had an offer. Someone wants to pay me for information about the Commander.”

He spun around. His face was half hidden in shadows, but it was as rigid as the stone he held. “Why tell me?”

“I thought you might want to follow along. This might be the one who has been leaking information about me.”

He stared at me.

I wished then that I held a heavy rock, because I had the sudden desire to bash it on his head. “Espionage is illegal. You might want to make an arrest, or maybe even feed this leak some misinformation. You know, spy stuff. Remember? Or have you become bored with that, too?” Anger fueled my words.

I took a breath to launch into an attack, but it slid unvoiced past my clenched teeth. There was a slight softening in Valek’s face. Renewed interest emanated from him, as if he had been holding every muscle taut and had just relaxed.

“Who?” he asked finally. “And when?”

“Margg approached me, and she mentioned a contact. We’re meeting tomorrow night.” I studied his expression. Was he surprised or hurt by Margg’s treachery? I couldn’t tell. Reading Valek’s true mood was like trying to decipher a foreign language.

“All right, proceed as planned. I’ll tail you to the rendezvous, and see who we’re dealing with. We’ll start by feeding this contact some accurate information to make you look reliable. Perhaps the Commander’s change of successor would work. It’s harmless information that will be made public anyway. Then we’ll go from there.”

We outlined the details. Even though I was placing my life in danger, I felt cheerful. I had my old Valek back. But for how long? I wondered as wariness crept back in.

When we were through, I turned to go.

“Yelena.”

I halted in the doorway, looking back over my shoulder.

“You once said I wasn’t ready to believe your reason for killing Reyad. I’ll believe you now.”

“But I’m not ready to tell you,” I said and left the room.

20

DAMN VALEK! DAMN, DAMN, damn him! Gave me the cold shoulder for four days and then expected me to trust him? I’d admitted to murder. They’d arrested the right person. That was all he should care about.

Walking down the stairs in the darkness, I headed toward my room. I have to get out of this place, I thought with sudden intensity. The overwhelming desire to take off and damn the antidote was strong. Run away, run away, run away sang in my mind. A familiar tune. I had heard it before when I was with Reyad. Memories I had thought were tightly locked away now threatened to push free, seeping through the cracks. Damn Valek! It was his fault I couldn’t suppress my memories any longer.

In my room, I locked the door. When I turned around, I spied Reyad’s ghost lounging on my bed. The wound in his neck hung open, and blood stained his nightshirt black. In contrast, his blond hair was combed in the latest style, his mustache groomed to perfection, and his light blue eyes glowed.

“Get out,” I said. He was, I reminded myself, an intangible ghost and not, absolutely not, to be feared.

“What kind of greeting is that for an old friend?” Reyad asked. He lifted a book on poisons off my nightstand, and flipped through the pages.

I stared at him in shock. He spoke in my mind. He held a book. A ghost, a ghost, I kept repeating. Reyad was unaffected. He laughed.

“You’re dead,” I said. “Aren’t you supposed to be burning in eternal damnation?”

Reyad wasn’t banished so easily. “Teacher’s pet,” he said, waving the book in the air. “If only you had worked this hard for me, everything would have been different.”

“I like the way it turned out.”

“Poisoned, pursued and living with a psychopath. Not what I would consider the good life. Death has its perks.” He sniffed. “I get to watch your miserable existence. You should have chosen the noose, Yelena. It would have saved you some time.”

“Get out,” I said again, trying to ignore the touch of hysteria in my voice and the trickle of sweat down my back.

“You do know you’ll never get to Sitia alive? You’re a failure. Always were. Always will be. Face it. Accept it.” Reyad rose from the bed. “You failed all our efforts to mold you. Do you remember? Remember when Daddy finally gave up on you? When he let me have you?”

I remembered. It had been the week of the fire festival, and Reyad had been so preoccupied with General Tesso’s visiting retinue, especially Tesso’s daughter, Kanna, that he hadn’t bothered to check on me. Since I’d been meekly obeying his every command to gain some trust, he was smug in the assumption that he’d cowed me into submission. As a result, it was more than a month since he’d locked me into my tiny room that was next to his suite.

But the festival had once again tempted me into disobeying Reyad’s instructions to stay away. The beatings and humiliations of the year before were insufficient to deter me this year. In fact, I felt a stubborn pride in refusing to be intimidated by him. I was terrified of getting caught, knew deep down in a small corner of my mind that I would get caught, but I threw all caution to fate. The fire festival was a part of me. The only time I tasted true freedom. Even though it was for but a few moments, it was worth the consequences.

My defiance added an edge to my acrobatic routines, making me bold and reckless. I sailed through the first five rounds with aplomb, dismounts steady, flips tight, energy level unlimited. I advanced to the final round of competition, which was scheduled for the last day of the festival.

I scrambled to put the finishing touches on my costume for the competition, while Reyad guided Kanna and a group of friends on a hunting party in the countryside.

I had scrounged around the manor for the preceding two weeks to acquire the necessary supplies for my attire. Now I stitched scarlet silk feathers onto a black leotard, and then outlined them with silver sequins. Wings tied to a harness completed the outfit, but I folded them small and flat so they wouldn’t impede my motion. Braiding my hair into one long rope, I wound it tightly around my head and secured two flaming red feathers in the back. Pleased with the results, I arrived early at the acrobatics tent to practice.

When the competition started, the tent bulged with people. The crowd’s cheers soon dimmed to a dull roar in my ears as I performed my routines. The only sounds reaching me were the thump of my hands and feet on the trampoline, the creaking of the tightrope as I launched myself in midair to execute a two-and-a-half twist and the crack of the slender rope when I landed on it without falling.

The floor routine was my last event. I stood on the balls of my feet at the edge of the mat, breathing deeply. The heavy earthy smell of sweat and the dry scratch of chalk dust filled my lungs. This was my place. This was where I belonged. The air vibrated like a thunderstorm poised to blow in. Energized as lightning, I started my first tumbling run.

I flew that night. Spinning and diving through the air, my feet hardly touched the ground. My spirit soared. I felt like a bird performing aerial tricks for sheer delight. At the end of my last run, I grabbed my wings with both hands. Pulling them open, I raised them over my head as I somersaulted and landed on my feet. The bright scarlet fabric of the wings billowed out behind me. The crowd’s thunderous cheers vibrated deep in my chest. My soul floated with crimson wings on the updraft of the audience’s jubilant praise.

I won the competition. Pure uncomplicated joy consumed me, and I grinned for the first time in two years. Face muscles aching from smiling, I stood on the platform to receive the prize from the Master of Ceremonies. He settled a bloodred amulet, shaped like flames and engraved with the year and event, on my chest. It was the greatest moment of my entire life—followed by the worst, as I spotted Reyad and Kanna watching me from the crowd. Kanna was beaming, but Reyad’s expression was hard and unforgiving as suppressed rage leaked from his twitching lips.

I lingered inside the changing room until everyone had gone. There were two exits to the tent, but Reyad had positioned his guards at both. Knowing Reyad would take my amulet and destroy it, I buried it deep under the earthen floor of the room.

As I expected, Reyad grabbed me as soon as I stepped from the tent. He dragged me back to the manor. General Brazell was consulted. He agreed that I would never be “one of his group.” Too independent, too stubborn and too willful, Brazell said, and gave me over to his son. No more experiments. I had failed. That night, Reyad just managed to control his temper until we were alone in his room, but once the door was closed and locked, he vented his full anger with his fists and feet.

“I wanted to kill you for disobeying me,” Reyad’s ghost said as he glided across my room. “I planned to savor it over a very long period of time, but you beat me to it. You must have had that knife tucked under my mattress for quite a while.” He paused, creasing his brow in thought.

I had stolen and hidden a knife under Reyad’s bed a year before, after he had beaten me for practicing. Why his bed? I had no real strategy, just a terrible foreboding that when I needed it, I would be in Reyad’s room and not in my small room next door.

Dreaming of murder was easy; committing it was another story. Even though I’d endured much pain that year, I hadn’t crossed the threshold of sanity. Until that night.

“Did something set you off?” the ghost asked. “Or were you procrastinating, like now? Learning to fight!” He chuckled. “Imagine you fighting off an attacker. You wouldn’t last against a direct assault. I should know.” He floated before me, forcing the memories out.

I flinched from him and from that night’s recollection. “Go away,” I said to the specter. Picking up the book on poisons, I stretched out on my bed, determined to ignore him. He faded slightly as I read, but brightened whenever I glanced his way.

“Was it my journal that set you off?” Reyad asked when my eyes lingered too long.

“No.” The word sprang from my mouth, surprising me. I had convinced myself that his journal had been the final straw after two years of torment.

The painful memories flooded with a force that shook me and left me trembling.

After I had regained consciousness from the beating, I’d found myself sprawled naked on Reyad’s bed. Flourishing his journal before me, he ordered me to read it, taking pleasure in watching the growing horror on my face.

His journal had listed every single grievance he had against me for the two years I’d been with him. Every time I disobeyed or annoyed him, he noted it, and then followed with a specific description of how he would punish me. Now that Brazell no longer needed me for his experiments, Reyad had no boundaries. His sadistic inclinations and overwhelming depth of imagination were written in full detail. As I struggled to breathe, my first thought was to find the knife and kill myself, but the blade was on the other side of the bed near the headboard.

“We’ll start with the punishment on page one tonight.” Reyad purred with anticipation as he crossed to his “toy” chest, pulling from it chains and other implements of torture.

I flipped back to the beginning with numb fingers. Page one recorded that I had failed to call him sir the first time we met. And for lacking the proper deference, I would assume a submissive position on my hands and knees, and then be whipped. He would demand that I call him sir. With each lash, I would respond with the words, “More, sir, please.” During the following rape, I would address him as sir, and beg him to continue my punishment.

His journal slipped from my paralyzed hands. I flung myself over the bed, intent on finding the knife, but Reyad, thinking I was trying to escape, caught me. My struggles were useless, as he forced me to my knees. With my face pressed into the rough stone floor, Reyad chained my hands behind my neck.

The anticipation was more frightening than the actual event. In a sick way, it was a comfort, because I knew what to expect and when he would stop. I played my part, understanding that if I denied him his intended moves, I would only enrage him further.

When the horror finally ceased, blood covered my back and coated the insides of my legs. I curled into a ball on the edge of Reyad’s bed. My mind dead. My body throbbing. His fingers were inside me. Where he would always be, he breathed into my ear as he lay beside me.

This time the knife was within my reach. My thoughts lingered on suicide.

Then Reyad said, “I guess I’ll have to start a new journal.”

I did not respond.

“We’ll be training a new girl now that you’ve failed.” He sat up, and dug his fingers deeper into me. “Up on your knees. Time for page two.”

“No!” I screamed. “You won’t!” Fumbling for a frantic second, I pulled the knife out and sliced at his throat. A surface cut only, but he fell back on the bed in surprise. I leaped onto his chest, slashing deeper. The blade scraped bone. Blood sprayed. A warm feeling of satisfaction settled over me when I realized I could no longer determine whose blood pooled between my thighs.

“So that’s what set you off? The fact that I was going to rape you again?” Reyad’s ghost asked.

“No. It was the thought of you torturing another girl from the orphanage.”

“Oh, yes.” He snorted. “Your friends.”

“My sisters,” I corrected. “I killed you for them, but I should have done it for me.” Anger surged through my body. I cornered him. My fists struck out even though I knew in a tiny part of my mind that I couldn’t hurt him. His smug expression never changed, but I punched again and again until the first rays of dawn touched Reyad’s ghost. He vanished from sight.

Sobbing, I sank to the floor. After a while, I became aware of my surroundings. My fists were bloodied from hitting the rough stone wall. I was exhausted and drained of all emotions. And I was late for breakfast. Damn Valek!

“Pay attention,” Ari said. He jabbed me in the stomach with a wooden knife. “You’re dead. That’s the fourth time today. What’s the matter?”

“Lack of sleep,” I said. “Sorry.”

Ari gestured me to the bench along the wall. We sat down and watched Maren and Janco, engaged in a friendly bow match on the far side of the storeroom. Janco’s speed had overpowered Maren’s skill, and she was on the retreat, backing into a corner.

“She’s tall and thin, but she’s not going to win,” Janco sang. His words aimed to infuriate her—a tactic that had worked before. Too often, Maren’s anger caused her to make critical mistakes. But this time, she remained calm. She planted the end of her bow between his feet, which trapped his weapon close to his body. Then she flipped over his head, landed behind him, and grabbed him around the neck until he conceded.

My bleak mood improved a notch watching Maren use something I had taught her. The indignant expression on Janco’s face was priceless. He insisted on a rematch. They launched into another rowdy duel. Ari and I remained on the bench. I think Ari sensed that I had no energy to continue our lesson.

“Something’s wrong,” he said in a quiet voice. “What is it?”

“I—” I stopped, unsure of my answer. Should I tell him about Valek’s cold shoulder and change of heart? Or about my nightlong conversation with the ghost of the man I’d murdered? No. Instead I asked him, “Do you think this is a waste of time?” Reyad’s words about procrastination had held a ring of truth. Perhaps the time I spent training was merely a subconscious ploy to avoid solving my real problems.

“If I thought this was a waste of time, I wouldn’t be here.” A trace of anger colored Ari’s voice. “You need this, Yelena.”

“Why? I might die before I even have a chance to use it.”

“As I see it, you’re already good at running and hiding. It took you a week to get up the nerve to talk to Maren. And if it was up to you, she’d still be calling you Puker. You need to learn to stand and fight for what you want.” Ari fidgeted with the wooden knife, spinning it around his hand.

“You hover on the edges, ready to take off if something goes wrong. But when you can knock the bow from Janco’s hands, and sweep my feet out from under me, you’ll be empowered.” He paused, and then said, “If you feel you need to spend your time on something else, then do it…in addition to your training. Then the next time someone calls you Puker, you’ll have the confidence to tell her to go to hell.”

I was amazed at Ari’s assessment of me. I couldn’t even say if I agreed or disagreed with him, but I did know he was right about my compulsion to do something else. He didn’t know what it was, but I did: find the antidote to Butterfly’s Dust.

“Is that your idea of encouragement?” I asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes. Now quit looking for an excuse to stop training, and trust me. What else do you need?”

The quiet intensity of Ari’s voice caused a chill to ripple up my spine. Did he know what I was planning, or was he guessing? My intentions had always been to get the antidote and run to Sitia. Run away, run away, run away. Ari had been right about that. But running south would require me to be in top physical condition, and to have the ability to defend myself from guards. However, I had been evading one important detail: Valek.

He would follow me to Sitia, and crossing the border wouldn’t make me safe from him. Even Irys’s magic couldn’t protect me. He would consider my recapture or my death a personal responsibility. And that was what I’d been so afraid to face. What I’d been dancing around. I’d been concentrating on training so I wouldn’t have to deal with the dilemma I feared I wasn’t smart enough to solve. I had to enhance my strategy, to include not only obtaining the antidote, but dealing with Valek without killing him. I doubted Ari had the solution.

“You might beat Valek with these blows.” Janco puffed while blocking Maren’s bow. “He’ll laugh himself silly at how pathetically weak they are, giving you the perfect opening.”

Maren remained silent, but increased the pace of her attack. Janco backed off.

Janco’s words stirred in my mind. An odd little long-shot plan began to take shape. “Ari, can you teach me how to pick locks?”

He considered my words in silence. Finally, he said, “Janco could.”

“Janco?”

Ari smiled. “He seems harmless and happy-go-lucky, but as a boy he got into all kinds of mischief until he was trapped in a tight spot. Then he was given the choice of either joining the military or going to jail. Now he’s a Captain. His biggest advantage is that no one thinks he is serious, and that’s exactly what he wants.”

“I’ll try and remember that the next time he’s cracking jokes and my ribs.” I watched Maren beat Janco a second time.

“Best three out of five, my lady can not deny,” Janco called tirelessly.

Maren shrugged. “If your ego can handle it,” she replied, swiping at his feet with her bow. He jumped, avoiding her attack with an athletic grace, and lunged. The rhythmic crack of wood striking wood filled our practice room.

Ari stood, assumed a defensive stance, and somehow I found the energy to face him.

After the workout, the four of us were resting on the bench when Valek arrived. Maren shot to her feet, as if she thought being found sitting idle was a crime, but the rest of us kept our relaxed positions. I found it fascinating to watch the small changes in Maren’s behavior whenever Valek was around. Her rough edge softened, she smiled more and tried to engage him in conversation or a match. Most of the time he would review fighting tactics with her, or conduct a practice, and she would preen like an alley cat attracting the biggest tom. But this time he wanted to talk to me. Alone. The others left the room. Maren shot me a dark look with the force of one of her bow strikes. I would pay for this tomorrow, I thought.

Valek paced. With an uneasy feeling, I hoped that he wasn’t searching for a rock to throw.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him. “Is it about tonight?” Excitement over exposing Margg soured to nervousness when I thought of the risk I’d be taking. The idea that this might be another waste of time surfaced. Damn Reyad’s ghost! He was making me doubt everything. The leak impacted my life. Someone had tipped off those goons at the fire festival, and Irys had known I was in the forest. Margg needed to be plugged.

“No. We’re all set for tonight,” Valek said. “This is about the Commander.” He paused.

“What about him?”

“Has he been meeting with anyone strange this week?”

“Strange?”

“Someone you don’t know or an adviser from another Military District?”

“Not that I’ve seen. Why?”

Valek paused again. I could see his mental wheels turning as he considered whether or not to trust me. “Commander Ambrose has agreed to admit a Sitian delegation.”

“That’s bad?” I asked, confused.

“He hates southerners! They’ve requested a meeting with him every year since the takeover. And for the last fifteen years, the Commander has replied with a single word: no. Now they’re due to arrive in a week.” Valek’s pacing increased. “Ever since you became the food taster and that Criollo showed up, the Commander has been acting different. I couldn’t put my finger on it before, it was just a nagging feeling, but now I have two particular incidents.”

“The change in his successor and now the southern delegation?”

“Exactly.”

I had no response. My experience with the Commander had been the complete opposite of what I had expected from a military dictator. He considered other opinions, was firm, decisive and fair. His power was obvious; every command was instantaneously obeyed. He lived the spartan life that he endorsed. There was no fear in his advisers and high-ranking officers, just an unflappable loyalty and immense respect. The only horror story since the takeover that I’d heard was about Rand’s mother. Of course, the assassinations before were infamous.

Valek stopped and took a deep breath. “I’ve misdirected some Criollo to our suite. I want you to eat a piece whenever he does. But you’re not to tell anyone, not even the Commander. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied automatically, but my mind reeled over his calling the suite “ours.” Did I hear that right? I wondered.

“Keep your meeting with Margg tonight. I’ll be there.”

“Should I tell Margg’s contact about the southern delegation?”

“No. Use the change of the Commander’s successor. It’s already floating around as a rumor, so you’ll just confirm it.” Valek strode from the room.

In case someone would discover our training room, I hid the practice weapons, removed all visible traces of our presence and locked the door. On my way to the baths, my thoughts dwelled on the meeting tonight. Distracted, I walked by an open doorway. An oddity. In this section of the castle, most of the doors led to storerooms and were kept locked.

Movement blurred to my left. Hands grabbed my arm and yanked me inside. The door slammed shut. Complete darkness descended. I was flung face-first against a stone wall. The air in my lungs whooshed out from the impact. I turned. My back to the wall, I gasped for breath.

“Stay put,” a male voice growled.

I aimed a front kick toward the voice but met air. Laughter taunted. A candle was uncovered. The weak yellow glow reflected off a long silver blade. Terrified, I traced the knife to the hand, then along the arm, and up to the face. Nix.

21

“WHY?” NIX PLACED THE candle among the cobwebs lacing the tabletop. “Why am I always the smartest one?” He stepped closer.

I kicked again, but he blocked it with ease.

“Why haven’t my attempts to discourage you worked?” In the flicker of the candlelight he moved. The edge of his knife pressed against my throat. “Maybe I need to be more obvious?”

The smells of boiled cabbage and body odor penetrated my nose. Keeping my body still, I asked in the most neutral and un-frightened voice I could manage, “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that no one sees you as a threat. But I’m smarter than Ari, Janco and Maren. I’m even smarter than Valek. Aren’t I?” When I failed to respond, Nix added pressure to the knife. “Aren’t I?”

A thin line of pain burned across my neck. “Yes,” I replied. In the air behind Nix, Reyad’s ghost coalesced out of the dust motes, sporting a smug smile.

“My boss wants you to stop training. I’m not allowed to kill you. Pity.” Nix stroked my face with his free hand. “I’m here to warn you off.”

“Parffet? Why would he care?” As I tried to distract him, my mind frantically shuffled through my brief sessions with Ari on knife defense. Damn, I thought, why hadn’t I paid more attention?

“He doesn’t care. The only thing dull-witted Parffet cares about is getting promoted. But General Brazell has a keen interest in your new hobby.” Nix thrust his free hand between my legs, and leaned his body against mine.

For a terrified second, I froze. Panic erased all techniques of self-defense from my mind. A soft buzzing began to grow inside my head, but I stifled it, pushed it away, and it transformed into a simple musical scale of notes. Calm flowed. The necessary defense moves appeared before my eyes.

I moaned and rocked my hips, widening my stance.

Nix smiled with delight. “You’re just the whore I thought you’d be. Now, remember, you’re to be punished.” His upper thigh replaced his hand. He began to tug at my belt.

I rubbed my knee between his legs then rammed it straight up into his groin. Grunting, Nix doubled over. I grabbed his blade with both hands to prevent it from biting farther into my throat. Ari’s practical voice, “Better to cut your hands than your neck,” echoed in my head even as I winced at the sharp pain. Focusing on the knife, I pushed the weapon from me. Nix stumbled back.

“Bitch!” He snarled and pulled his arm back to swing the knife.

As the blade swept toward me, I stepped in close to his body, so when I turned, my right shoulder brushed his chest. Using the edges of my opened hands, I struck his upper and lower arm. The combined force of my strike and his swing made Nix’s arm go limp. The weapon clattered to the floor.

Grabbing his arm, I twisted it until the heel of his hand pointed toward the ceiling. Then I pivoted, placing my right shoulder under his elbow. With all my might, I yanked his hand down. I heard a loud crack followed by a scream as Nix’s arm broke. Spinning around to face him, I punched him twice in the nose. Blood gushed out. While he was off balance, I kicked his kneecap, breaking it. Nix crumpled to the ground.

I danced around him, kicking him in the ribs. My blood hummed and sizzled. His weak attempts to block me only fueled my frenzy. In that state of mind, I might have killed him.

Reyad’s ghost cheered me on. “That’s it, Yelena,” he urged. “Kill another man, and it’s the noose for sure.”

Somehow, his words reached the rational part of my mind, and I stopped, breathing hard. Nix was still. I knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. A strong throb met my fingertips. The relief that coursed through me vanished when Nix clutched my elbow.

I yelped and punched him in the face. His grip relaxed, and I pulled my arm free. Snatching the knife from the floor, I took Janco’s often-repeated advice for self-defense: “Hit and git.” I ran. But this time fear didn’t follow me. I ran with imaginary scarlet wings flowing behind me.

Moving fast to ward off the shakes that threatened to overpower me, I reached the baths. They were empty at this time of day, so I hid Nix’s knife under one of the towel tables. I checked the extent of my wounds in the mirror. The cut on my neck had stopped bleeding. But two deep gashes on my palms looked serious enough to require the medic’s attention. There was also a wild, unrecognizable shine to my eyes, as if I had turned feral. I bared my teeth and thought, Now who’s the rat? Pondering my next move, I wavered. The Commander expected me to taste his dinner, but I couldn’t bleed all over his food. My initial surge of energy from the fight with Nix was waning. A wave of dizziness swelled. I headed toward the infirmary, hoping to reach it before I passed out.

Medic Mommy gave me a quick appraisal. She pointed to an examining table. I perched on the edge and held my hands out for inspection.

“How…” she started.

“Broken glass,” I said.

She nodded, lips pressed tight in thought. “I’ll get my medkit.”

I stretched out on the bed when she returned with her metal tray full of instruments. A jar of Rand’s glue seemed out of place among the medical supplies, like a child’s toy surrounded by adult paraphernalia. My hands had started to throb, and I dreaded the medic’s ministrations. I turned my head in time to see Valek burst into the infirmary. Just what I needed, I thought, sighing. This had turned out to be one hell of a bad day.

“What happened?” Valek demanded.

I glanced at the medic.

She took my right hand and began to clean my wound. “Broken glass leaves jagged lacerations. These clean slices are obviously from a knife. I’m required to report it.”

The medic had reported me to Valek and he wasn’t going to leave without an answer. With resignation I focused on him, hoping to distract myself from the pain in my hands. “I was attacked.”

“By who?” His tone sharp.

I cut my eyes at the medic, and Valek understood.

“Could you excuse us for a minute?” he asked her.

She pursed her lips as if considering his request. Her authority overruled Valek’s for all medical situations.

“Five minutes,” she ordered, and walked to her desk on the far side of the infirmary.

“Who?” Valek repeated.

“Nix, a guard in Parffet’s unit. Said he worked for Brazell and warned me to stop training.”

“I’ll kill him.”

The intensity of Valek’s voice shocked and alarmed me. “No, you won’t,” I said, trying to sound firm. “You’ll use him. He’s a link to Brazell.”

His hard blue eyes found mine and held my gaze, probing deep. “Where did he attack you?”

“A storeroom about four or five doors up from our training room.”

“He’s probably long gone by now. I’ll send someone to the barracks.”

“He won’t be there.”

“Why not?” Valek gave me a look that reminded me of the Commander. His eyebrows were raised in an effort to suppress his emotions, inviting me to continue.

“If he’s not in the storeroom, he won’t have gotten far. You might want to send a couple of men.”

“I see.” Valek paused. “So your training has been progressing to your satisfaction?”

“Better than expected.”

Valek left the infirmary. Medic Mommy, the stoolie, returned to my side. Next time, I thought bitterly, I’ll heal myself and avoid being betrayed by the medic. I still had a jar of Rand’s glue in my backpack. How hard could it be to seal a couple of cuts?

I chewed on my lower lip while she finished cleaning and sealing my cuts. Wrapping bandages tightly around my hands, she gave me instructions that would allow them to heal: no immersion in water for a day, no lifting or writing for a week. And that meant no training for a while, I thought.

Valek’s men entered. They dumped Nix onto another examining table. The medic shot me a quizzical expression, then she bustled over to Nix’s groaning form, giving me the perfect opportunity to leave.

I hurried to the Commander’s office, but Valek had beaten me there. He closed the door behind him as he joined me in the throne room.

“I’ve taken care of dinner,” he said, guiding me back through the maze of desks. It was early evening, and only a handful of advisers were working.

“Find Margg and cancel tonight’s meeting, then go back to our suite and get some rest,” he said.

“Cancel? What for? It would look suspicious. I’ll wear gloves to cover the bandages. It’s cold enough at night; nobody will notice.” When he didn’t reply, I added, “I’m fine.”

He smiled. “You should take a look at yourself in a mirror.” He hesitated, his face creasing in indecision. “All right. We’ll proceed as planned.”

We stopped at the door to Valek’s office. “I have some work to finish. Rest and don’t worry. I’ll be close by tonight.” He inserted his key.

“Valek?”

“Yes.”

“What will happen to Nix?”

“We’ll patch him up, threaten him with years in the dungeon if he doesn’t cooperate, and when he’s done helping us, I’ll reassign him to MD–1. Good enough? Or should I kill him?”

Military District 1 was the coldest, bleakest district in Ixia. The possibility of Nix falling prey to a snow cat brought a wicked grin to my face. “No. Reassignment’s good. If I had wanted him dead, I would have done it myself.”

Valek straightened his spine, snapping me a look. A combination of surprise, amusement and wariness over my comment flashed across his face before he reined in his emotions and was once again my stone-faced Valek.

I smiled my best Janco impression and headed down the hall. Resting would have to wait since I had a number of errands to run before the evening’s meeting. First, I needed a pair of gloves and a cloak. As the cooling season dwindled toward the cold season, the nights had turned sharp and brisk, coating everything in a blanket of ice so that the blades of grass sparkled like diamonds when touched by the morning sun.

Thanking fate that Dilana was still in her sewing room, I chatted with her about the latest gossip before I made my request.

“My goodness,” she said, sounding like a worried matron. “You don’t have any clothes for the cold!” She bustled about her stacks of uniforms. Her soft, honey-colored ringlets bounced with each movement. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” she admonished.

I laughed. “I haven’t needed them till now. Dilana, do you mother everyone in the castle?”

She stopped piling clothes to look at me. “No, dear, just the ones that need it.”

“Thanks,” I said in a tone of affectionate sarcasm.

By the time she was through outfitting me for the cold season, I was inundated with a heap of clothing. With all of the flannel undergarments, wool socks and heavy boots, I probably could survive on the pack ice for weeks. I stashed the pile into a corner of the room and asked Dilana to have someone deliver them to Valek’s suite.

“Still there?” she asked with a grin.

“For now. But I think when things settle down, I’ll be back in my old room.” When, I thought sourly. It was more like if.

I selected a heavy black cloak from the stack, tucked black wool gloves into its deep pockets, and then draped it over my arm. The cloak had two hand-size red diamonds stitched on the left breast and an oversize hood whose function was more to keep the rain off my face than to keep my head warm.

“I think you’ll be there a long time,” Dilana said.

“Why?”

“I believe Valek’s sweet on you. I’ve never seen him take such an interest in a food taster before. He usually trains them and leaves them alone. If there was any potential for trouble, he would assign one of his sneaks to spy on the taster, but he wouldn’t bother with him personally, let alone live with one!” Her face had the avid glow of a gossip at full steam.

“You’re crazy. Deluded.”

“In fact, he’s never taken an interest in a woman before. I was beginning to suspect he might prefer one of his male sneaks, but now…” She paused dramatically. “Now, we have the lovely, intelligent Yelena to get Valek’s cold heart pumping.”

“You really should get out of your sewing room more. You need fresh air and a dose of reality,” I said, knowing better than to believe a word Dilana said, but unable to control the silly little grin on my face.

Her sweet, melodious laughter followed me into the hallway. “You know I’m right,” she called.

The only reason Valek was interested in me, I thought as I walked through the dim corridors, was because I was a puzzle for him to solve. Once he thought he had all the answers about the southern magician and Brazell, I’d be sent back to my room in the servants’ wing. I couldn’t let myself believe anything else. It was one thing for me to have a harmless infatuation that wouldn’t have any influence on my plans. It wouldn’t. Absolutely not. To think he felt the same toward me would be disastrous.

So I tried to convince myself that Dilana, although a sweetheart, was a victim of her own overactive imagination and was mistaken. I tried very hard. I tried all the way to the kitchen. I tried when I saw Rand lurching around his ovens, reminding myself that Valek was ruthless, murdering dozens of people. The King’s blood still adorned Valek’s knife. Valek was deadly, moody and exasperating. But for some reason, I couldn’t get that silly grin to go away no matter how hard I tried.

Draping my cloak over a stool, I helped myself to a late dinner. Rand finished spinning his pigs and pulled up a stool beside me. My mouth watered at the smell of roasting pork.

“What’s the occasion?” I asked. Pork roast was a rare meal, requiring an entire day to cook and served only at special times.

“Generals coming to visit this week. All my special dishes have been requested. I’ve also been ordered to prepare a feast for next week. A feast! We haven’t had one of those since…” He shook his head, pursing his lips. “Actually, we’ve never had one with the Commander in charge.” Rand sighed. “I won’t have any time to experiment.”

“Would you have time to look at these?” Pulling a handful of the mystery beans out of my pocket, I handed them to Rand. I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to show them to him. “I found them in an old storeroom, and I thought maybe they were your coffee beans.”

He immediately ducked his head and took a deep sniff of the beans. “No, unfortunately not. I don’t know what these are. Coffee beans are smooth and have a rounder shape. These are oval. See? And bumpy.” Rand spread them out on the table and picked one up. He bit into it. Chewing, he cringed at the bitter taste. “I’ve never seen or tasted anything like this. Where did you find them?”

“Somewhere on the castle’s lower level.” Oh well, I thought, it had been worth a try. My disappointment pressed on my shoulders. I had hoped to solve this puzzle for Commander Ambrose, but it looked as though I had hit another dead end.

Rand must have sensed my frustration. “Important?” he inquired.

I nodded.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Leave these here and after the feast I’ll work on them for you.”

“Work?”

“I’ll try grinding, cooking and boiling the beans. Ingredients can change their flavor and texture when you add heat, and these might turn into something I recognize. All right?”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Nonsense. I like a challenge. Besides, after the feast, it’ll be back to my daily routine anyhow, and this will give me a project to look forward to.” He funneled the beans into a jar, and placed it high on a shelf full of other strange edibles similarly encased in their own glass jars.

We discussed menu options for the feast until Rand needed to turn his pigs again. A quarter turn every hour, he said, reminding me that my time to meet Margg was fast approaching. A small pang of nervousness touched my stomach as I bade Rand good-night.

I stopped by the baths, intending to retrieve Nix’s knife, but there were too many people there. Maybe being unarmed would be for the best, I told myself as I tried to calm the butterflies in my stomach. Maybe they would search me. If they found a weapon, I might be in more trouble.

Margg wore her usual expression of distaste when I met her just past the south gate of the castle complex. We exchanged insults by way of greeting and continued the walk into Castletown in silence. I hoped Valek was close behind, but I knew better than to glance over my shoulder and make Margg wary.

Stars decorated the night sky, and the full face of the moon shone brightly, casting shadows. The road to town was grooved with ruts from wagon wheels and worn smooth by the passage of many boots. I took a deep breath of the cool night air and felt a sense of renewal as the heavy scent of earth and dried leaves cleansed my lungs.

At the outskirts of town, I saw neat rows of four-story wooden buildings. I was struck by their symmetry. I had grown so accustomed to the wild, asymmetrical style of the castle, with its windows of every geometric shape, that the ordinary plainness of the town seemed bizarre. Even the placement of businesses among the residences had been planned in a logical manner.

The few townspeople that I spotted on the street walked with a purpose. Nobody hung about, or talked, or looked as if they were out for a casual stroll. Nobody, except the town’s guards.

Soldiers who had once played a major part in the takeover had been reassigned as policemen for the towns throughout the Territory of Ixia. Enforcing curfew and the dress code, they dealt justice in accordance with the Code of Behavior by checking papers, arranging transfers and making arrests. Every visitor to each town was required to report to the main station to complete the proper paperwork before seeking lodging.

Our meeting had been carefully scheduled to give us time to return to the castle before our presence on the street would be viewed with suspicion. The pairs of soldiers stationed on the streets followed us with their gazes. I felt my skin prickle under their scrutiny, and I had myself half convinced that they would swoop down on us at any moment.

In the middle of a street free from guards, Margg came to a stop at a house indistinguishable from its neighbors. She knocked twice on the door. After a pause, the door swung inward and a tall, red-haired woman in an innkeeper’s uniform poked her head out. Glancing at Margg, she nodded in recognition. She had a sharp, sloping nose, which guided the movements of her head as she pointed her face at me. Her dark eyes rested upon me with an intensity that made me want to fidget. A bead of sweat trickled down my spine. Finally, she pulled her nose away to look down the street. Sniffing for a trap, I guessed. Apparently satisfied, she opened the door wider and let us in. Still no one spoke as we proceeded up three flights of steps.

The top floor of the house was ablaze with light, and I squinted in the harsh brightness. A profusion of candles ringed the room on multiple levels, heating the air with the smoky scent of apples. I glanced at the window. With the amount of light in the room, I was sure it would spill out into the street, but black curtains covered the glass and pooled on the floor.

Bookshelves, a desk and a scattering of comfortable armchairs led me to believe that the room was used as a study. The woman who had let us in sat behind the desk. Odd metal statues that resembled lanterns with rings around the top graced each side. Other strange and gleaming objects had been artfully arranged on shelves and tabletops. Some even hung from the ceiling. These spun in the air stirred by our passage.

The sharp-nosed woman didn’t offer us a seat, so Margg and I stood before her desk. Most of her ruby hair was confined in a bun, but small, curly wisps had sprung free.

“The food taster,” she said with a satisfied curl to her lip. “I knew it was only a matter of time before I had you in my employ.”

“Who are you?” My bluntness informed her that I wouldn’t tolerate games.

“You can call me Captain Star.”

I looked at her innkeeper’s uniform.

“I’m not part of Ambrose’s military. I have my own. Has Margg explained how I work?”

“Yes.”

“Good. This will be a simple exchange. This isn’t a social call; I don’t want gossip or hearsay. And don’t inquire about my business or about me. All you need to know is my name. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Since I wanted to gain her trust, I wasn’t about to cause any trouble, at least not yet.

“Good. What do you got?” With her nose leading the way, she leaned forward in her chair.

“The Commander has changed his successor,” I said.

Star’s body stilled as she absorbed this tidbit. I glanced at Margg, who looked shocked and annoyed that I had such interesting news.

“How do you know?” Star asked.

“I overheard the Commander and Valek talking.”

“Ah, yes. Valek.” Star tilted her nose at me. “Why are you living in his apartment?”

“None of your business,” I said with a firm tone.

“So why should I trust you?”

“Because Valek would kill me if he knew I was here. You know it as well as I do. How much is my information worth?”

Star opened a black velvet purse and pulled out one gold coin. She tossed the coin to me like a master would throw a bone to a dog. I snatched it from the air, suppressing a wince. The cuts on my hands started to throb.

“Your fifteen percent.” She sent one silver and one copper coin flying at Margg, who knew Star’s ways, and caught them easily. “Anything else?” Star asked me.

“Not at this time.”

“When you have something for me, tell Margg. She’ll arrange another meeting.”

Dismissed, I followed the silent Margg out of the house and down the street. Just as she guided me into a dark alley, Valek appeared out of the shadows. Before I could wonder why, he pulled me through a doorway and into a small room.

I was surprised and confused by his sudden arrival; I had thought he would wait a while before arresting Margg. She had followed me into the room, and stood with a sneering grin on her round face. It was the closest expression to pleasure that I had ever seen from her, and the opposite of what I had anticipated when she was caught as the leak. I tilted my head at Valek, hoping to prompt an explanation.

“I was right, Valek. She sold the Commander out for a gold coin. Check her pocket,” Margg urged.

“Actually, Yelena came to me before the meeting. She believed she was going to expose you,” Valek said to Margg.

Her gloating grin disappeared. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded.

“No time.”

“Margg’s not the leak?” I asked, still confused.

“No. Margg works for me. We’ve been feeding Star some rather unique information and hoping to find out who her other clients are. Star’s been pestering Margg to get you involved, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to test your loyalty.”

A complete understanding of Valek’s ill temper snapped into my mind. He had expected me to betray him and the Commander. How could he have believed that? I wondered. Didn’t he know me at all? Anger, disappointment and relief warred in my heart. I was unable to propel any words past my throat.

“I had hoped to send this rat back to the dungeon where she belongs,” Margg complained to Valek. “Now she’ll still be scurrying around. Still a threat.” Annoyed, she poked my arm with a meaty finger.

I moved. In a heartbeat I twisted her arm behind her back. She yelped as I raised her hand up high, forcing her to bend forward.

“I am not a rat,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’ve proved my loyalty. You will get off my back. No more nasty messages in the dust. No more prying into my things. Or the next time, I’ll break your arm.” I shoved her hard as I released my grip.

She stumbled and landed on the ground in a heap. Pink-faced, she lurched to her feet. As she opened her mouth to protest, Valek stopped her with a glance.

“Well said, Yelena. Margg, you’re dismissed,” Valek said.

Margg’s mouth snapped closed as she spun on her heel and left the room.

“She’s not friendly,” I said.

“No. That is precisely why I like her.” He studied the door for a moment, then said, “Yelena, I’m going to show you something you’re not going to like, but I think it’s important that you know.”

“Oh yeah? Like I enjoyed your test of faith?” Sarcasm rendered my voice sharp.

“I warned you that I tested the food taster from time to time.”

Before I could reply, he stopped me. “Be quiet and stay close behind me.” We went back out into the alley. Keeping in the shadows, we walked back to Star’s house, where Valek guided me into a dark entrance within sight of Star’s door.

“The person who has been leaking information to Star is due to arrive soon,” Valek whispered close to my ear. His lips lightly rubbed my cheek. Shivers rippled down my spine at his touch, distracting me from what he had said.

The impact of Valek’s words didn’t hit me until I saw a lone figure with an uneven gait walking down the street.

22

I RECOGNIZED THAT STRIDE. My heart melted as I watched Rand limp to Star’s house, knocking twice.

She admitted Rand into her home without a moment’s hesitation. The faint thump of the closing door echoed hollowly in my chest.

“Another test?” I asked Valek with desperate urgency. “Is he working for you?” But I knew the answer deep in my soul, even before I saw the sad shake of his head. I felt empty, as if every emotion had been wrenched out of me. It was just too much. After Reyad’s ghost, Nix’s attack and Valek’s test, I was mentally unable to handle another blow. I just stared at Valek with no thoughts, no feelings and no desires.

Valek motioned for me to follow him. I complied. We circled around to the back of Star’s house. Entering the building to the left, we padded up three stories. The interior was dark and empty except for the top floor. One of Valek’s men sat cross-legged with his back resting against the wall shared with Star’s study. He wrote in a notebook, using a single candle as illumination.

Rand’s voice could be heard clearly. Using hand signals, Valek communicated with the man. He gave the notebook to Valek and disappeared down the steps. Valek sat in the man’s spot, and then tapped the floor next to him.

I crouched beside him, facing the wall. I had no desire to hear Rand’s deceit, but I didn’t have the willpower to leave. Valek pointed to an array of small holes in the wood. I peered through. All I could see was the back of a piece of furniture. I guessed that the holes were for listening purposes only. Squatting on the floor, I rested my forehead against the wall and closed my eyes as I eavesdropped on Rand’s conversation.

“Generals are coming to town this week. That’s nothing new, but the Commander ordered a feast, so something’s up. Something significant. But I haven’t been able to figure out what,” Rand said.

“Let me know as soon as possible,” Star replied. Then she paused. “Maybe Yelena knows what’s going on.”

My heart lurched when I heard my name. Run away, run away, run away, my mind screamed, but I only pressed my forehead harder on the wall.

“I doubt it. She was surprised when I mentioned the feast, so I didn’t ask her. She might know more later this week. I’ll try again.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll ask her myself.” The sleek tone of Star’s voice implied that she had concealed this revelation until the time when exposing it would cause maximum damage.

“Yelena?” Rand sputtered. “Working for you? Impossible. That’s not her style.”

“Are you suggesting she’s working for Valek?” Alarm tightened her voice.

Equally upset, I glanced at Valek. He shook his head, waving his hand in a “don’t worry” gesture.

“No. She wouldn’t.” Rand had recovered. “I’m just surprised, but I shouldn’t be. She could use the money, and who am I to think any less of her for it?”

“Well, you shouldn’t be thinking of her at all. As I see it, she’s disposable. The only concern I’ll have when she dies is, who’s going to replace her and how quickly can I bribe him?”

“Star, once again you’ve shown me in the most repulsive way that the sooner I pay off my debt to you the better. How much credit do I get for tonight’s information?”

“Two silvers. I’ll mark it in my book, but it won’t make much difference.”

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you figured it out by now? You’ll never pay off your debt. As soon as you get close, you always gamble yourself right down another hole. You’re too weak, Rand. Too swayed by your own emotions. Easily addicted, and lacking in willpower.”

“Oh, that’s right. You claim to be a magician. Have you read my mind, Captain? ‘Captain Star’—what a laugh! If you really had magic, Valek would have taken care of you long ago. I know you’re not as smart as you claim.” The heavy uneven tread of footsteps resounded through the wall as Rand started to walk away.

I was astounded. I had never heard Rand speak with such harsh sarcasm before, and more than that, if Star was a magician, I could be in serious danger. My mind spun, but it was all too complex to contemplate at this time.

“I don’t need to read your mind,” Star called after him. “All I have to do is review your history, Rand. It’s all there.”

Silence settled. The only noise coming from Star’s study was the crinkle of papers being turned. Valek stood, pulling me up with him. His man had returned. Handing him the notebook, Valek descended the steps.

I followed Valek through the dark streets of Castletown. We kept to the shadows, avoiding the patrolmen. Once we had escaped the city’s limits, Valek relaxed and walked beside me on the main road to the castle.

“I’m sorry,” Valek said. “I know Rand was your friend.”

His use of the past tense jabbed like a knife’s point between my ribs.

“How long have you known?” I asked.

“I’ve suspected for the last three months, but only procured the hard evidence this month.”

“What tipped you off?”

“Rand and his staff helped me with that poison test I gave you. He stayed while I laced the food with poison. I left that goblet of peach juice on my desk to keep it clean. It was a fair test. Blackberry poison was in that cup, but I didn’t put it there.” Valek paused, letting the information sink in.

“An interesting property of blackberries is that only when they’re prepared in a special solution of grain alcohol and yeast and cooked with extreme care to the proper temperature are they poisonous. Most cooks, and certainly not their assistants, don’t possess the skills or the knowledge to achieve that result.” Valek sounded as if he admired Rand’s ability to brew the poison.

The full understanding that Rand had tried to poison me almost knocked me off my feet. I stumbled as a surge of nausea boiled in my stomach. Dashing to the side of the road, I vomited into the bushes. Only when my body had ceased its convulsions did I realize Valek was supporting me. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, while a cold hand pressed against my forehead.

“Thanks,” I said, wiping my chin clean with some leaves. With trembling legs, I let Valek lead me to the castle. If he hadn’t continued to support me, I would have curled up on the ground and called it a night.

“There’s more. Do you want to hear it?” Valek asked.

“No.” The truth, but as we drew closer to the outer wall of the castle complex, I made an ugly connection. “Did Rand set me up at the fire festival?”

“In a way.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“The goons that nabbed you waited for you near the baking tent, so I suspected that Rand had told Star you would be there. But then he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. It was as if he was protecting you. Remember how upset he was when he couldn’t find you. How relieved he was when he spotted you alive and whole?”

“I thought he was drunk,” I said.

“I suspect Rand is an unwilling participant. At the time of the poison test, he hardly knew you, but as your friendship grew, I imagine he finds himself in a difficult situation. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he needs to pay off his gambling debt. Star has an extensive organization, with plenty more thugs to replace the ones I took care of, thugs who would be willing to break a few bones for their boss. Does that make you feel any better?”

“No.” My reaction to Rand’s betrayal seemed extreme even to me, but I couldn’t switch it off. It wasn’t the first time someone had played false with me and it wasn’t going to be the last. Brazell had deceived me. I had loved him like a father, and been loyal to him. In the end, it took almost a year of enduring his experiments before my feelings dwindled to the point where I could see him as he really was. But I had always known my young devotion to him was one-sided. Since he had never given me any reason to think he cared for me, his actions had been easier to stomach.

Rand’s friendship, on the other hand, appeared genuine. I had begun to feel as if I had finally made a decent-size hole in the stone barricade I had built around myself. Big enough for me to slip through and enjoy our time together. Now the wall was crumbling. I felt stones pelting me and burying me deep beneath the rubble. How could I trust anyone again?

“Anything else you want to tell me?” I asked Valek as we stopped a few feet short of the castle’s south entrance. “Did Ari and Janco set me up for Nix’s attack? Do you have another test of loyalty for me up your sleeve? Maybe the next time, I’ll actually fail. A prospect that seems appealing!” I pushed away Valek’s supporting arm. “When you warned me that you would test me from time to time, I thought you meant spiking my food. But it seems there is more than one way to poison a person’s heart, and it doesn’t even require a meal.”

“Everyone makes choices in life. Some bad, some good. It’s called living, and if you want to bow out, then go right ahead. But don’t do it halfway. Don’t linger in whiner’s limbo,” Valek said, his voice gruff. “I don’t know what horrors you faced prior to your arrival in our dungeon. If I had to guess, I would think they were worse than what you have discovered tonight. Perhaps that will put things into perspective.”

He strode into the castle. I leaned against the cold wall, resting my head on the unyielding surface. Maybe if I stayed here long enough, my heart would turn to stone. Then betrayals, tests of loyalties and poisons would have no effect on me. But the cold eventually drove me inside.

“Apply a force on the wrench. Not too much. You need a firm yet gentle touch,” Janco said.

With healing hands still sore, I clumsily placed the tension wrench into the keyhole and applied pressure.

“Now use your diamond pick to lift the pin that’s trapped by the tension, lift it until it breaks,” he instructed.

“Breaks?” I asked.

“Reaches alignment. When you put a key into a lock, the metal ridges push the pins up so you can turn the cylinder and open the lock. The pins hold the cylinder in place. You’ll need to do one pin at a time, and continue the pressure.”

I slid the pick into the lock past the wrench. I maneuvered the pick, lifting each of the five pins. I could feel a tiny vibration in my finger joints as each pin broke with a subtle yet distinct click. When they were all aligned, the cylinder turned and the door unlocked.

“Good job! Damn, Yelena, you’re a fast learner.” Janco paused, his brow creased in concern. “You’re not going to use this to do something stupid, right? And get us into trouble?”

“Define stupid,” I said. When Janco’s eyes widened, I added, “Don’t worry. I’m the only one who would get into trouble.”

He relaxed, and I practiced on another lock. We were in the lower level of the castle where no one would surprise us. It had been four days since the night I had learned about Rand. Valek’s orders had been to act as if nothing had happened. He wanted to discover the full extent of Star’s organization before exposing them. Valek was a true predator, I thought sourly, eyeing his prey before pouncing for the kill.

I knew I wasn’t ready to play the friend to Rand, so I had been avoiding him, which wasn’t hard to do. The castle crawled with Generals and their retinues, making every worker in the complex busy, including Rand.

Brazell was another reason I was glad to be out of sight. His black-and-green soldiers had infected the castle, and keeping away from them was becoming difficult. Although, I didn’t mind hiding in Valek’s suite. He had stolen a box of Criollo, and I was contented to munch a piece each time I tasted the Commander’s food.

Ari, Janco and I had postponed our training sessions for the duration of the Generals’ visit, but I had managed to rope Janco into teaching me to pick locks. Giving him the gold coin from Star had provided an added incentive. Valek had said I could keep it since working undercover wasn’t part of the food taster’s job. But the heavy weight of it in my pocket had been a constant reminder of Rand’s treachery, so I decided to put it to good use.

“This last lock has ten pins. If you can open this one, you’ll be able to handle all the pin-tumbler locks or key locks in the castle. Except the dungeon bolts. They’re complicated, and it’s not like we can practice on them.” Janco’s forehead furrowed. “You’re not going to need that skill, are you?”

“I sincerely hope not.”

“Good.”

After several failed attempts, I managed to pop the lock open.

“Now you need to practice. The quicker you can spring a lock the better,” Janco instructed. “I would let you borrow my picks, but I never know exactly when I might need them.” He winked, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. “So…” He pulled another set from his pocket. “I used that coin you gave me to buy a set for you.” He handed me a black cloth case.

“That money was for you.”

“Oh, there’s plenty left. Even after I bought you this.” He flourished an ebony-colored wooden rod as long as my hand. It was decorated with a bright silver button, and silver symbols were engraved on the side.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Push the button,” he said with glee.

I pressed down with my thumb, and started when a long gleaming blade shot out. It was a switchblade.

Amazed, I stared at my gifts. “Thank you, Janco. But why did you buy these for me?”

“Guilt, I suppose.”

“Guilt?” Not the answer I had expected.

“I called you a criminal. I was once a criminal, but I’ve gone past it, and no one has held it against me. Besides, I have a terrible feeling you may need them. General Brazell’s soldiers have been swaggering around the barracks, bragging about who is going to ‘take out’ Reyad’s killer. They’re quite imaginative, and I had to hold Ari back from challenging the lot a couple of times. Ten against one isn’t good odds, even for Ari and me.”

“I’ll stay away from them,” I said.

“Good. I’d better get moving. I’ve drawn the night shift. But, first, I’ll escort you to your room.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Ari would kill me if I didn’t.”

We walked together toward Valek’s suite. When we reached the corner before the main doors, Janco stopped just out of sight of the guards.

“Almost forgot,” he said, reaching into his uniform pocket. He pulled out a sheath for the switchblade. “It goes around your right thigh. Remember to make a nice big hole in your pants pocket, so when you pull the weapon it won’t get caught in the fabric.”

He was about to leave when I stopped him. “Janco, what are these symbols?” I pointed to the silver markings on the handle of the knife.

Janco smiled. “They’re the old battle symbols used by the King when he sent out messages and orders during war times. It didn’t matter if the enemy intercepted them, because they were unintelligible to anyone who didn’t know how to decipher them. Some of the soldiers still use them. They work well in military exercises.”

“What do they say?”

His grin widened. “Too easy, Yelena. I’m sure you’ll figure it out…eventually.” Always the prankster, Janco laughed with delight.

“Come here,” I said, “so I can punch you.”

“I’d love to oblige you, my dear.” Janco dodged beyond my reach. “But I’m late.”

23

AFTER HIDING JANCO’S GIFTS deep in my uniform pocket, I went into Valek’s suite. He was working at his desk, but he looked up as soon as I entered the room, giving me the impression that he had been waiting for me.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

“With Janco,” I said. But I was wary. As long as I arrived at the scheduled times during the day, Valek didn’t ask about what I did with my free time.

“Doing what?” Valek demanded, standing with his hands on his hips.

The comical image of a jealous husband popped into my mind. I stifled a smile. “Discussing fighting tactics.”

“Oh.” Valek relaxed his stance, but moved his arms awkwardly as if he felt he had overreacted and was trying to cover it up. “Well, that’s all right. But from now on, I need to know where you are at all times, and I suggest you stay in the castle and keep a low profile for a while. General Brazell’s guards have set a bounty on your head.”

“A bounty?” Fear pulsed through my chest.

“It could be a rumor or just drunken soldiers’ talk. But until they leave, I want you protected.” Valek’s tone was firm, but then he added, “I don’t want to train another taster.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“No. You’ll be paranoid. You’ll move in a crowd, keep to well-lit areas and you’ll make certain to have an escort with you whenever you’re walking down empty hallways late at night. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. The Generals’ brandy meeting is scheduled for tomorrow evening. Each General will bring a bottle of his finest brandy to share as they discuss Ixian business late into the night. You will be needed to taste the Commander’s drinks.” Valek lifted a box of eight bottles from the floor. They clinked musically as he set the carton on the table.

Pulling out a small drinking glass, he said, “I want you to sample each brandy once tonight and at least twice tomorrow, so you know how each tastes clean of poisons.” He handed me the glass. “Each bottle is labeled according to the type of brandy, and which General brings it.”

I grabbed a decanter at random. It was General Dinno’s cherry brandy made in MD–8. Pouring a mouthful, I took a sip and rolled the liquid around my tongue, attempting to commit the taste to memory before swallowing. The strong alcohol burned down my throat, leaving behind a small fire in my chest. My face flushed with the heat.

“I suggest you use the ‘slurp and spit’ method so you don’t get drunk,” Valek said.

“Good point.” I found another glass for spitting, and then worked my way through the remainder of the bottles.

On the day of the meeting, I tasted each brandy twice more in Valek’s suite, and then tested myself with a third round. Only when I could pinpoint by taste alone which cordial belonged to which General was I satisfied.

That night, I waited for Valek to escort me to the war room. He came downstairs decked out in full dress uniform. Red braids draped his shoulders; medals were lined up six deep over his left breast. He oozed dignity, a man of stature. I would have been impressed, except for the uncomfortable and peevish look he wore. A petulant child forced to wear his best clothes. I covered my mouth, but was unable to block my laughter.

“Enough. I have to wear this damn thing once a year and, as far as I’m concerned, it’s one time too many.” Valek tugged at his collar. “Ready?”

I joined him at the door. The uniform enhanced his athletic body, and my thoughts drifted to how magnificent he would look with his uniform puddled around his feet.

“You look stunning,” I blurted. Mortified, I blushed as a rush of heat spread through my body. I must have swallowed more brandy than I’d realized.

“Really?” Valek glanced down at his uniform. Then he set his shoulders back and stopped yanking at his collar. His cross expression changed to a thoughtful smile.

“Yes. You do,” I said.

We arrived in the Commander’s war room just as the Generals assembled. The long, slender, stained-glass windows glowed with the weak light of the setting sun. Servants scurried around the circular chamber, lighting lanterns and arranging platters of food and drink. All military personnel were attired in their dress uniforms. Medals and buttons sparkled. I knew only three Generals by sight; the rest I deduced by the color of the diamonds on their otherwise black uniforms. Scrutinizing their faces, I memorized their different features in case Valek tested me later.

Brazell glared when I made eye contact. Adviser Mogkan stood next to him, and I shivered as Mogkan’s eyes slid over me with cunning appraisal. When Brazell and Reyad had performed their experiments on me, Mogkan had always hovered nearby. His presence, sensed but unseen, had given me violent nightmares. Brazell’s usual advisers were missing; I wondered why he had brought Mogkan instead.

The Commander sat at the tip of the egg-shaped conference table. His uniform was simple and elegant with real diamonds stitched onto his collar. The Generals, flanked by their advisers, seated themselves around the rest of the table. Valek’s chair was to the Commander’s right, and my stool was placed behind them, against the only stone wall in the room. I knew the meeting would last all night, and I was glad I would be able to rest my back. Another advantage to my position was that I wasn’t in direct sight of Brazell. Although I could avoid seeing the poisonous looks he might flash my way, I couldn’t hide from Mogkan’s pointed stares.

The Commander pounded a wooden gavel on the table. Silence fell. “Before we launch into the scheduled topics,” the Commander said, indicating the detailed agenda which had been distributed earlier, “I have an important announcement. I have appointed a new successor.”

A murmur rippled through the war room as the Commander walked around the table and handed a sealed envelope to each General. Inside the envelopes were eight pieces to an encoded puzzle that would reveal the new successor’s name when deciphered by Valek’s key.

Tension permeated the room. I felt it pressing against me like an overfilled water-skin about to burst. A maelstrom of expressions, surprise, anger, concern and contemplation crossed the Generals’ faces. General Rasmussen of MD–7 whispered into his adviser’s ear, the General’s cheeks turning as red as his hair and mustache. I leaned forward in my seat and saw Brazell struggle to keep his face neutral as delight tweaked at his features.

Instead of erupting, the tension simmered, and leaked away as the Commander ignored it by beginning the meeting. Items related to MD–1 were the first order of business, to be followed by each district in order. As a bottle of General Kitvivan’s special white brandy slid around the table, the Generals discussed snow cats and mining rights.

“Come on, Kit. Enough about the cats. Just feed them up on the pack ice like we do, and they won’t bother you,” General Chenzo of MD–2 said in exasperation, running a meaty hand through his moon-white hair. His full mane stood out starkly against his tanned skin.

“Feed them so they’ll get healthy and fat and start breeding like rabbits? We’ll go broke supplying the meat,” Kitvivan shot back.

My interest in the proceedings waxed and waned depending on the subject. After a while I began to feel light-headed and warm as the brandy influenced my body, since protocol dictated that I swallow when tasting for the Commander.

The Generals voted on various topics, but the Commander held the final vote. Mostly he ruled in favor of the majority. No one ventured a complaint when he didn’t.

Commander Ambrose had lived in MD–3, scratching out a meager existence with his family in the foothills of the Soul Mountains. Nestled between the mountains and the ice pack, his home was atop a vast diamond mine. When the rich find had been discovered, the King had claimed the diamonds, and “allowed” the Commander’s family to live there and work in the mines. He lost many family members to cave-ins, and to the damp and dirty environment.

As a young man seething at the injustices of the monarchy, Ambrose educated himself and began preaching about reform. His intelligence, bluntness and pervasiveness gained him many loyal supporters.

My mind focused back on the meeting when the Generals reached issues regarding MD–5. General Brazell caused a considerable stir. Instead of sliding around his best brandy, he sent a silver tray containing what looked like small brown stones. Valek handed one to me. It was a round drop of Brazell’s Criollo.

Before protests about ignoring tradition could escalate, Brazell rose and invited everyone to take a bite. After a brief moment of silence, exclamations of delight filled the war room. The Criollo was filled with strawberry brandy. I gave the Commander the all-clear sign so I could savor the rest of my morsel. The combination of the sweet, nutty taste of the Criollo mixed with the smooth texture of the brandy was divine. Rand would be upset that he hadn’t thought of mixing the two, I supposed, then regretted feeling sorry for Rand as I envisioned his deceitful face.

After the praise died down, Brazell made the announcement that the construction of his new factory was complete. Then he went on to more mundane matters of how much wool had been sheared and the expected output of the cotton plantations.

Military District 5 produced and dyed all the thread for Ixia, and then sent it to General Franis’s MD–3 to be woven into fabric. Franis nodded his head in concern as he wrote down the figures Brazell quoted. He was the youngest of the Generals, and had the habit of tracing the purple diamonds on his uniform with a finger whenever he was concentrating.

I dozed on my stool as fuzzy thoughts gathered like storm clouds in my mind. Strange dreams about brandy, border patrols and permits swirled like snowflakes. Then the images turned bright and sharp as a picture of a young woman dressed in white hunting furs snapped into my mind.

She held a bloody spear high in the air in celebration. A dead snow cat lay at her feet. She slammed the tip of her weapon into the pack ice and drew a knife. Cutting a slash in the cat’s fur, she used a cup to collect the blood that spilled out.

She exalted as she drank, scarlet rivulets spilling down her chin. I heard her thoughts clearly in my mind. “No one has managed this feat,” she thought. “No one but I!” she shouted over the snow. Her exhilaration filled my heart. “Proof that I am a strong cunning hunter. Proof that my manhood was taken from me. Proof that I am a man. Men will not rule me any longer,” she cried. “Become the snow cat to live with snow cats, become a man to live with men.”

The hunter turned her face. At first, I took her to be the Commander’s sister. They shared the same thin delicate features and black hair. She wore power and confidence like a cloak. Peering at my dreaming self, her gold almond-shaped eyes drove through me like a lightning strike. Sudden recognition that she was the Commander jerked me awake. My heart pounded and my head thumped and I realized I was staring directly into Mogkan’s searing gaze. He smiled with satisfaction.

The Commander’s reason for hating magicians was as clear to me as glass. He was a she, but with the utter conviction that she should have been born a man. That cruel fate had chosen to burden him with a mutation that he had to overcome. And the Commander feared that a magician might pull this secret from his mind. Pure foolishness, I thought, shaking my head to dismiss the whole crazy notion. Just because I had dreamed about a woman didn’t mean that the Commander was one. It was absolute nonsense. Or was it?

Rubbing my eyes, I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed that I had fallen asleep. The Commander stared off into the distance, and Valek sat stiff and alert, scanning the room, seeking something or someone. General Tesso had the floor.

Valek pulled his gaze back to the Commander, and bumped his arm in alarm. “What’s going on?” he whispered urgently. “Where were you?”

“Just remembering a time long ago,” the Commander said in a wistful voice. “More enjoyable than listening to General Tesso’s excruciatingly detailed report on the corn harvest in MD–4.”

I studied the Commander’s features, trying to superimpose the woman from my dream. They matched, but that meant nothing. Dreams twisted reality and it was easy to envision the Commander killing a snow cat.

The rest of the meeting continued without incident, and I dozed on my stool from time to time, untroubled by strange dreams. When the Commander pounded his gavel, I was awake in an instant.

“Last item, gentlemen,” the Commander announced. “A Sitian delegation has requested a meeting.”

The room erupted with voices. Arguments sprang to life as if the Generals were picking up an old debate right where they had left off. They discussed trade treaties, and quarreled about attacking Sitia. Instead of trading for goods, why not take them? they argued. They wanted to expand their districts and gain more men and resources, ceasing all worries about Sitia attempting to attack Ixia.

The Commander sat in silence and let the flow of advice wash over him. The Generals settled enough to proclaim their beliefs about allowing the Sitians to come. The four northern Generals (Kitvivan, Chenzo, Franis and Dinno) didn’t want to meet with the delegation, while the four southern Generals (Tesso, Rasmussen, Hazal and Brazell) favored a summit with the Sitians.

The Commander shook his head. “I acknowledge your opinions about Sitia, but the southerners would rather trade with us than attack us. We have more men and metal. A fact they are well aware of. To attack Sitia we would expend many lives and large sums of money. And for what? Their luxury items aren’t worth the cost. I’m content with Ixia. We have cured the land of the King’s disease. Perhaps my successor will want more. You’ll have to wait until then.”

A murmur rippled through the Generals. Brazell nodded in agreement, with his thin lips anchored in a predator’s smile.

“I have already agreed to meet with the southern contingent,” the Commander continued. “They’re due to arrive in four days. You have until then to express your specific concerns to me before departing for your home districts. Meeting adjourned.” The bang from the Commander’s gavel echoed throughout the dead silent room.

The Commander rose and with his bodyguards and Valek close behind, he prepared to leave. Valek gestured for me to join them. I lurched to my feet. The full effect of the brandy I had consumed washed over me. Giddy, I followed the others from the room. An explosion of sound slipped through the door just before it closed behind us.

“That should stir things up a bit,” the Commander said with a wan smile.

“I would advise against vacationing in MD-8 this year,” Valek said sarcastically. “The way Dinno reacted to your announcement about the southern delegation I would expect him to pepper your beach house with sand spiders.” Valek shivered. “A horribly painful way to die.”

My skin crawled too, thinking of the lethal spiders the size of small dogs. Our procession continued in silence for a while as we headed back to the Commander’s suite. My gait was unsteady. The stone walls blurred past me, as if they were moving and I was the one standing still.

Outside the Commander’s suite, Valek said, “I’d watch out for Rasmussen too. He didn’t take the news of the change in your successor well.”

The Commander opened his door. I stole a quick glance inside his suite. The same plain utilitarian style that decorated his office and the rest of the castle was present. What had I expected? Maybe a splash of color, or something a bit more feminine? I gave my head a little shake to banish such absurd thoughts. The motion made my head spin, and I had to put a hand to the wall to keep myself from stumbling.

“I watch out for everyone, Valek. You know that,” the Commander said before shutting the door behind him.

Upon entering our suite, Valek stripped off his uniform jacket and threw it on the couch. He pointed to a chair and said, “Sit. We need to talk.”

I plopped into the chair and dangled a leg over the armrest, watching Valek pace the room in his sleeveless undershirt and formfitting black pants. Imagining my hands helping to ease the tension in the long ropy muscles of his arms almost started a giggling fit. Brandy flowed through my blood, quickening my pulse.

“Two things were very wrong tonight,” Valek said.

“Oh, come on. I just dozed for a minute,” I said in my defense.

Valek shot me a quizzical look. “No, no. You did fine. I meant about the meeting; the Generals.” He continued to pace. “First, Brazell seemed unusually happy about the change in successor and the Sitian delegation. He’s always wanted a trade treaty, but he typically exercises a more cautious approach. And second, there was a magician in the room.”

“What?” My breath locked. Had I been discovered?

“Magic. Very subtle, from a trained professional. I only felt it once, a brief touch, but I couldn’t pinpoint the source. But the magician had to be in the room, or I wouldn’t have felt it.”

“When?”

“During Tesso’s long-winded dissertation about corn.” Valek’s posture had relaxed a little, as if the act of talking out a problem helped him deal with it. “About the same time your snoring could be heard halfway across the room.”

“Ha,” I said rather loud. “You were so stiff at that meeting I thought rigor mortis had set in.”

Valek snorted with amusement. “I doubt you could have looked any better sitting in that uncomfortable dress uniform all night. I imagine Dilana sprayed on extra starch with malicious glee.”

Then he grew serious again. “Do you know Adviser Mogkan? He eyed you most of the evening.”

“I know of him. He was Reyad’s primary adviser. They also hunted together.”

“What’s he like?” Valek asked.

“Same kind of vermin as Reyad and Nix,” I said. The words poured off my lips. I slapped both hands over my mouth, but it was too late.

Valek studied me for a moment. Then he said, “There were a number of new advisers at the meeting. I guess I’ll have to check them out one by one. It seems we have a new southern spy with magic abilities.” He sighed. “It never ends.” He dropped onto the edge of the couch as weariness settled on him like a coating of dust.

“If it did, you’d be out of a job.” Before I could stop myself, I squeezed behind Valek and started to massage his shoulders. The alcohol had taken complete command of my movements, and the tiny sober section of my brain could do nothing but yell useless admonishments.

24

VALEK STIFFENED UNDER my touch. Was he expecting me to strangle him? I wondered. As my hands kneaded his muscles, he relaxed.

“What would you do,” I asked him, “if suddenly the world was perfect and you had no one to spy on?”

“I’d be bored,” Valek said with amusement.

“Come on, seriously. A change in profession.” I dug my thumbs into the muscle at the base of his neck. “A fire dancer?” A rush of warmth radiated as brandy pumped through my blood.

“No. An arms teacher?” Valek suggested.

“No. It’s a perfect world. No weapons allowed.” I moved my hands down his back. “How about a scholar? You’ve read all these books lying around, haven’t you? Or are they just to make it difficult for someone to sneak in?”

“Books serve me in so many ways. But I doubt your perfect society would need a scholar on murder.”

My hands paused for a second. “No. Definitely not.”

“A sculptor? I could carve extravagant statues. We could redecorate the castle and liven things up. How about you?” he asked as I pressed my fingertips into the small of his back. “What would you do?”

“Acrobatics.” The word flowed without conscious thought. I had thought I left acrobatics behind with my fire amulet, but it seemed my excursion through the trees had reawakened my desire.

“An acrobat! Well, that explains a lot.”

Aroused by my contact with Valek’s sculpted body, I slid my hands around to his stomach. Reyad be damned. The brandy had relaxed me past fear. I started to unfasten Valek’s pants.

He grabbed my wrists, stopping me. “Yelena, you’re drunk.” His voice was hoarse.

Valek released my hands and stood. I sat, watching him with surprise as he swooped down to lift me from the couch. Wordless, he carried me to my room and laid me on the bed.

“Get some sleep, Yelena,” Valek said softly as he left the room.

My world spun as I stared into the darkness. Placing a hand on the cold stone wall next to my bed helped to steady my thoughts. Now I knew. Valek had no interest in me other than my job as the food taster. I had allowed myself to get caught up in Dilana’s gossip and Maren’s jealousy. The ache of rejection throbbing in my soul was my own fault.

Why hadn’t I learned by now? People turned into monsters. At least the people in my experience. First Brazell, then Rand, although Reyad had stayed consistent. What about Valek? Would he transform into one or had he already? Like Star said, I shouldn’t be thinking of him at all, not as a companion, and not to fill the dead place in my heart.

As if I could. I laughed. A drunken sound, tattered and ragged, the music of my thoughts. Look around you, Yelena, I chided myself. The poisoned food taster who converses with ghosts. I should be thankful that I breathed, that I existed. I shouldn’t long for more than freedom in Sitia. Then I could fill the emptiness. Dismissing all sentimental, weak thoughts, I focused on the business of staying alive.

Escaping to Sitia would break no bonds with Valek. Once I obtained the antidote to Butterfly’s Dust I could set my plans into motion. Determined, I reviewed lock-picking techniques in my mind until I fell into a deep alcohol-induced sleep.

I woke an hour before dawn with a pounding head. My mouth felt like an abandoned spiderweb. I imagined dust blowing from my lips with each exhaled breath. Moving with extreme care, I inched out of bed. Wrapping my blanket around my shoulders, I went to get a drink. Valek liked cold water and always kept a pitcher outside on the balcony.

The crisp night air blew away the lingering fuzziness of sleep. The castle’s stone walls glowed, eerily reflecting the moonlight. I located the metal pitcher. A thin film of ice had formed on the top. Breaking it with a finger, I poured the water into my mouth, gulping.

When I tipped my head back for a second drink, I noticed a black spider-shaped object clinging to the castle wall above my head. With growing alarm, I realized the shape was descending toward me. It wasn’t a spider but a person.

I searched for a hiding spot, but stopped when I realized that the intruder had probably already seen me. Locking myself in the suite and waking Valek seemed a better plan. But before I could enter the pitch-black living room, I hesitated. Inside, the intruder’s dark clothes would be hard to see. A locked door no longer gave me a sense of security since my lock-picking lessons with Janco.

Cursing myself for leaving my switchblade inside, I moved to the far end of the balcony, clutching the water pitcher in my hand.

The wall climber jumped the remaining distance to the balcony floor. The effortless movement triggered recognition.

“Valek?” I whispered.

A bright flash of white teeth, then Valek removed a pair of dark glasses. The rest of his face was hidden behind a hood that covered his head and was tucked into a skintight body leotard.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Reconnaissance. The Generals tend to stay up late after the Commander leaves the brandy meeting. So I had to wait until everyone had gone to bed.” Valek went into the suite. He removed his hood. Lighting the lantern on his desk, he pulled a paper from his pocket.

“I hate a mystery. I would have let the identity of the Commander’s successor remain a secret, as I have for fifteen years, but tonight’s opportunity was too tempting. With eight drunken Generals sleeping it off, I could have danced on their beds without waking them. Not one among them has any imagination. I watched all the Generals put their envelopes from the Commander right into their briefcases.” Valek motioned for me to join him at the desk. “Here, help me decipher this.”

He handed me a stiff piece of paper. A jumble of words and numbers were scrawled on it. He had copied the eight different pieces of the encrypted message by stealing into each General’s room. I wondered why he was confiding in me. Too curious to question, I pulled up a chair to help him.

“How did you break the wax seal?” I asked.

“Rookie trick. All you need is a sharp knife and a tiny flame. Now read me the first set of letters.” He wrote it down then reordered the letters until he had created the word siege. Opening a book, he flipped through the pages. Symbols like the ones on my switchblade’s handle peppered the document. The page Valek stopped on was decorated with a large blue symbol that resembled a star in the middle of three circles.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The old battle symbol for siege. The dead King used these markings to communicate with his Captains during times of war. They were originally created hundreds of years ago by a great strategist. Read me the next set. They should be numbers.”

I told him the numbers. He began to count the lines of text.

It occurred to me that I could borrow this book and figure out Janco’s message on my switchblade. Eventually, my ass. Won’t Janco be surprised.

When Valek reached that number, he wrote a letter down on a clean page. After he had finished deciphering the message, Valek sat as still as a held breath. Unable to wait any longer I asked, “Who is it?”

“Guess,” he said.

I looked at him. I was tired and hungover.

“I’ll give you a hint. Who was the happiest about the change? Whose name keeps popping up during the most bizarre situations?”

Terror swept over my body like a cloak. If something happened to the Commander, Brazell would be in command. I would probably be his first order of business, and wouldn’t live long enough to see any changes he might implement in Ixia.

Valek understood the look on my face. He nodded. “Right. Brazell.”

For two days the Commander met with each General in turn. My brief and periodic interruptions to taste the Commander’s food created uncomfortable moments of silence. The tension around the castle was palpable as the Generals’ retinues snarled and fought with everyone.

On the third day, when I arrived to taste the Commander’s breakfast, I found him absorbed in conversation with Brazell and Adviser Mogkan. The Commander’s eyes were glazed, his voice a monotone.

“Get out of here!” Brazell barked.

Mogkan pushed me into the throne room. “Wait here until we summon you,” he ordered.

I hesitated outside the door, uncertain if I should heed this unusual request. If it had come from Valek or the Commander I wouldn’t have doubted, but being expected to follow Mogkan’s orders rankled. My worries grew as I imagined Brazell attempting an assassination. I was about to search for Valek, when he burst into the throne room, his expression hard as he hurried toward the Commander’s office.

“What are you doing out here?” Valek demanded. “Haven’t you tasted his breakfast yet?”

“I was ordered to wait. He’s with Brazell and Mogkan.”

Sudden fear crossed Valek’s face. He pushed past me into the office. I followed. Mogkan was standing behind the Commander with his fingertips pressing into the Commander’s temples. When Valek appeared, Mogkan stepped away. He said smoothly, “You can definitely feel, Sir, that this is an excellent way to ease a headache.”

Animation returned to the Commander’s face. “Thank you, Mogkan,” he said. Glaring at Valek’s intrusion, he demanded, “What’s so important?”

“Disturbing news, Sir.” Valek stared daggers at Brazell and Mogkan. “I would like to discuss it in private.”

The Commander rescheduled their meeting for later that day, then dismissed them.

“Yelena, taste the Commander’s breakfast now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Valek watched me taste the food. An intense expression lined his face, making me nervous. Did he think the food was tainted? I rechecked the cooling tea and lukewarm omelet, but detected no foreign substances. I placed the tray on the Commander’s desk.

“Yelena, if I have to eat cold food again, I’ll have you whipped. Understand?” The Commander’s voice lacked passion, but the threat was genuine.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, knowing an excuse was useless.

“You’re dismissed.”

I fled from the office, barely noticing the bustling activity in the throne room. Walking past the entrance, I paused. “Hungry,” said a flat voice in my head. My stomach growled; I was ravenous. I headed toward the kitchen.

When I rounded a corner, Adviser Mogkan stood there, blocking my path. He linked his arm through mine and guided me to an isolated section of the castle. Going with him seemed natural. I wanted to pull away. I wanted to be afraid, terrified even, but I couldn’t produce the emotions. My hunger had dissipated. I felt content.

Mogkan steered me down a deserted corridor. A dead end, I thought, still unable to conjure a reaction. His silky gray eyes stared at me for a moment before he unhooked his arm from mine. His fingers traced the line of black diamonds down my uniform sleeve.

“My Yelena,” he said possessively.

Fear blazed up my arm and exploded in my chest the second physical contact with Mogkan was broken. My emotional ennui had dissolved, but I couldn’t move. The muscles in my body wouldn’t obey my mind’s frantic commands to fight.

A magician! Mogkan had power. He had used it during the brandy meeting, tipping Valek off. But further contemplation on this revelation was cut short when Mogkan stepped closer.

“Had I guessed you would cause such trouble I never would have brought you to Brazell’s orphanage.” He smiled at my confusion. “Didn’t Reyad tell you that I found you?”

“No.” My voice was husky.

“You were lost in the jungle, only six years old. Such a beautiful, bright child. Such a delight. I rescued you from the claws of a tree leopard because I knew you had potential. But you were too stubborn, too independent. The harder we tried, the more you resisted.” Mogkan cupped his hand under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Even now, when I’m locked into you, you’re still fighting me. I can command your body.” He raised his left arm, and my own left arm mirrored his movement. “But if I tried to control both your mind and body, you would eventually thwart me.” He shook his head in disbelief, as if the whole concept amazed him.

“Fortunately, subtle pressure is all that’s required.” He pulled his hand away, and then made a pinching gesture with his fingers and thumb.

My throat closed. I was unable to breathe. Powerless to defend myself, I sank to the ground. My mind’s screaming went unvoiced. Logic grabbed the panic and wrestled it to the ground. Mogkan was using magic. Maybe I could block it before I passed out. I tried reciting poisons in my mind.

“Such strength,” Mogkan said in admiration. “But it won’t save you this time.” He bent down and kissed me tenderly, almost fatherly, on the forehead.

Peace flowed through me. I stopped resisting. My vision blurred. I felt Mogkan take my hand, holding it in his own.

25

RECLINING AGAINST THE WALL, I clung to Mogkan’s hand as the world faded around me. I felt an unwelcome jolt, then the tight blockage in my throat released. Gasping for breath, I came to my senses and realized I was lying prone on the floor. Next to me sat Valek atop Mogkan’s chest. Valek’s hands were wrapped around Mogkan’s neck, but his eyes were on me.

Mogkan smiled when Valek stood and yanked him to his feet. “I hope you’re aware of the penalty for being a magician in Ixia,” Valek said. “If not, I’d be delighted to enlighten you.”

Mogkan smoothed out his uniform and adjusted his long dark braid of hair. “Some would say your ability to resist magic makes you a magician, Valek.”

“The Commander thinks otherwise. You’re under arrest.”

“Then you’re in for a big surprise. I suggest you discuss these false accusations with the Commander before you do anything drastic,” Mogkan said.

“How about I kill you right now?” Valek stepped closer to him.

A hot, searing pain stabbed my abdomen. I yelped and rolled into a tight ball. The agony was relentless. Valek took another step. I screamed as fire blazed up my back and circled my head.

“Any closer, and she’ll be a corpse,” Mogkan said, a cunning sleekness in his voice.

Through eyes tearing with anguish, I saw Valek shift his weight to the balls of his feet, but he remained in place.

“Well, now. That’s interesting. The old Valek really wouldn’t have cared if I killed his food taster. Yelena, my child, I just realized how incredibly useful you are.”

The intense pain was unbearable. I would have gladly died to escape from it. Before I passed out, my last glimpse was of Mogkan’s back as he walked away unharmed.

I woke to blackness. Something heavy pressed against my forehead. Alarmed, I tried to sit up.

“It’s all right,” Valek said, pushing me down.

I touched my head and pulled off a damp cloth. Blinking in the light, I looked around at the familiar furniture of my own room. Valek stood next to me, a cup in his hand.

“Drink this.”

I took a sip and cringed at the medicinal flavor. Valek insisted I finish it. When the cup was empty, he placed it on the night table.

“Rest,” he ordered, then turned to leave.

“Valek,” I said, stopping him. “Why didn’t you kill Mogkan?”

He considered for a moment, tilting his head. “A tactical maneuver. Mogkan would have killed you before I could finish him. You’re the key to too many puzzles. I need you.” He strode to the door but paused at the threshold. His grip on the doorknob was hard enough to whiten his knuckles. “I’ve reported Mogkan to the Commander, but he was…” Valek’s hand twisted on the knob, and I heard the metal crack. “Unconcerned, so I’ll be guarding the Commander until Brazell and Mogkan leave. I’ve reassigned Ari and Janco as your personal bodyguards. Don’t leave this suite without them. And stop eating Criollo. I’ll taste the Commander’s Criollo. I want to see if anything happens to you.” Valek pulled the door shut, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts.

True to his word and much to the Commander’s annoyance, Valek didn’t leave the Commander’s side. Ari and Janco enjoyed a change in routine, but I made them work hard. Whenever I wasn’t tasting the Commander’s meals, I had Ari drill me with knife defense and Janco give me more lessons on picking locks.

The Generals’ departure was scheduled for the next day, which meant it was time to do some of my own reconnaissance. It was early evening and I knew Valek would still be with the Commander until late. I told Ari and Janco that I was going to bed early, and bade them good-night at the threshold to Valek’s suite. After waiting an hour, I slipped back into the hallway.

The corridors of the castle were not as deserted as I had hoped, but Valek’s office was located off the main through-way. I approached his door, scanning the hallway for activity. Seeing no one, I inserted my picks into the first of the three keyholes, but my nerves made popping the lock impossible. I took a couple of deep breaths and tried again.

I had two locks sprung when I heard voices approaching. Standing, I pulled the picks out of the keyhole and knocked on the door just as two men came into view.

“He’s with the Commander,” said the guard on the left.

“Thanks,” I replied and started to walk in the opposite direction with my heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings. I glanced behind me until they were gone, then raced back to Valek’s office. The third lock proved to be the most difficult. I was covered with sweat by the time I popped it. I hurried into the room, locking the door behind me.

My first task was to open the small wooden cabinet that held my antidote. Perhaps Valek had locked the recipe in there. I lit a dim lantern to peer inside. Glass bottles of various shapes and sizes gleamed in the light. Most of the bottles were marked Poison. A growing sense of urgency consumed me as I searched. All I uncovered was a large bottle containing the antidote. I poured only a few doses into the flask I had hidden in my pocket, knowing that Valek would notice if I took too much.

After relocking the cabinet, I began a systematic search of Valek’s files, starting with the desk drawers. Even though his office was strewn with books and maps, his personal dossiers were well organized. I found files on Margg and the Commander and was tempted to read them, but I stayed focused on finding any folder bearing my name or a reference to Butterfly’s Dust. Valek had written many interesting comments about my tasting abilities in my personnel file, but there was no mention of the poison or the antidote.

When I finished with the desk, I moved to the conference table. Books on poisons were interspersed with files and other espionage documents. I sorted through the piles. My time was running out. I had to be back in Valek’s suite before he escorted the Commander to his apartment.

I suppressed my disappointment as I finished with the table. There was still half of his office left to search.

I was halfway across the quiet room when I heard the distinct sound of a key being inserted into the lock. One click, then the key was withdrawn. I snuffed out the lantern as the second lock clicked open. Diving behind the conference table, I hoped the boxes piled underneath would hide me from view. Please, I prayed to the forces of fate, let it be Margg and not Valek. A third click made my heart squeeze.

The door opened and closed. A light tread of footsteps crossed the room. Someone sat at the desk. I didn’t risk peeking, but I knew it was Valek. Had the Commander retired early? I reviewed my meager options: be discovered or wait Valek out. I eased into a more comfortable position.

A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door.

“Come,” said Valek.

“Your, ah…package has arrived, sir,” said a male voice.

“Bring him in.” Valek scraped his chair on the stone floor.

I heard the rustle of chains and a shuffling step. “You’re dismissed,” Valek said. The door clicked shut. A familiar rancid smell of the dungeon reached my nose.

“Well, Tentil. Are you aware that you’re next in line for the noose?” Valek asked.

My heart went out to the doomed prisoner. I knew exactly how he felt.

“Yes, sir,” a voice whispered.

Pages crackled. “You’re here because you killed your three-year-old son with a plow, claiming it was an accident. Is that correct?” Valek asked.

“Yes, sir. My wife had just died. I was unable to afford a nanny. I didn’t know he had climbed under.” The man’s voice was pinched with pain.

“Tentil, there are no excuses in Ixia.”

“Yes, sir. I know, sir. I want to die, sir. The guilt is too hard to bear.”

“Then dying wouldn’t be adequate punishment, would it?” Valek didn’t wait for a response. “Living would be a harsher sentence. In fact, I know of a profitable farmstead in MD–4 that has tragically lost both the farmer and his wife, leaving behind three sons under the age of six. Tentil will hang tomorrow, or so everyone shall believe, but you will be escorted to MD–4 to take over the operation of a corn plantation and the job of raising those three boys. I suggest your first order of business should be to hire a nanny. Understand?”

“But…”

“The Code of Behavior has been excellent at ridding Ixia of undesirables, but it is somewhat lacking in basic human compassion. Despite my arguments, the Commander fails to grasp this point, so I occasionally take matters into my own hands. Keep your mouth shut, and you will live. One of my associates will check on you from time to time.”

I huddled behind the boxes, frozen in disbelief. Hearing Valek use the word compassion was as incomprehensible to me as the thought of Margg apologizing for her rude behavior.

There was another knock on the door.

“Come,” Valek said. “Perfect timing as always, Wing. Did you bring the documents?”

I heard a rustle of papers. “Your new identity,” Valek said. “I believe our business is concluded. Wing will escort you to MD–4.” Chains clanked to the floor. “You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, sir,” Tentil said. His voice cracked. He was probably overwhelmed. I knew how I would feel if Valek offered me a free life.

After the men left, a painful quiet descended. I feared the sound of my breath would give me away. Valek’s chair scraped. Two faint thumps were followed by a loud yawn.

“So, Yelena, did you find our conversation interesting?”

I held still, hoping he was guessing. But his next statement confirmed my dismay.

“I know you’re behind the table.”

I stood. There was no anger in his voice. He lounged in his chair with his feet resting on the desktop.

“How did you…” I began.

“You favor lavender-scented soap, and I wouldn’t be alive today if I couldn’t determine when someone had picked my locks. Assassins love to ambush, leaving dead bodies behind mysteriously locked doors. Fun stuff.” Valek yawned again.

“You’re not angry?”

“No, relieved actually. I wondered when you would search my office for the recipe to the antidote.”

Sudden fury welled in my throat. “Relieved? That I might try to escape? That I rifled through your papers? You’re that confident that I won’t succeed?”

Valek cocked his head to one side, considering. “I’m relieved that you’re following the standard steps of escaping, and not inventing a unique plan. If I know what you’re doing, then I can anticipate your next move. If not, I might miss something. Learning how to pick locks naturally leads to this.” Valek gestured around the room. “But, since the formula has not been written down and only I know it, I’m confident you won’t find it.”

I balled my hands into tight fists to keep them from wrapping around Mr. I-Know-Everything’s superior neck. “Okay, so there’s no chance for escape. How about this? You gave Tentil a new life, why not me?”

“How do you know I haven’t already?” Valek put his feet on the floor and leaned forward. “Why do you think you were in the dungeon for almost a year? Was it only luck that you happened to be the next in line when Oscove died? Perhaps I was merely acting at our first meeting when I seemed so surprised that you were a woman.”

It was too much to bear. “What do you want, Valek?” I demanded. “Do you want me to give up trying? Be content with this poisoned life?”

“Do you really want to know?” Valek’s voice intensified. He stood and walked over to me.

“Yes.”

“I want you…not as an unwilling servant, but as a loyal staff member. You’re intelligent, quick-thinking and becoming a decent fighter. I want you to be as dedicated as I am at keeping the Commander safe. Yes, it’s a dangerous job, but, on the other hand, one miscalculated somersault on the tightrope could break your neck. That’s what I want. Will you be able to give it to me?” Valek’s eyes seared deep into mine, searching for an answer. “Besides, where would you go? You belong here.”

I was tempted to concede. But I knew that if I wasn’t poisoned or murdered by Brazell, the wild magic in my blood would eventually explode, taking me with it. The only physical mark I would leave on this world would be a ripple in the power source. Without the antidote, I was lost anyway.

“I don’t know,” I said. “There’s too much…”

“That you haven’t told me?”

I nodded, unable to speak. Telling him about my magical abilities, I thought, would only get me killed faster.

“Trusting is hard. Knowing who to trust, even harder,” Valek said.

“And my track record has been rather horrendous. A weakness of mine.”

“No, a strength. Look at Ari and Janco. They appointed themselves your protectors long before I assigned them. All because you stood up for them to the Commander, when their own Captain wouldn’t. Think about what you have right now before you give me an answer. You have gained the Commander’s and Maren’s respect, and Ari’s and Janco’s loyalty.”

“What have I earned from you, Valek? Loyalty? Respect? Trust?”

“You have my attention. But give me what I want, and you can have everything.”

The next morning, the Generals prepared to leave. It took four hours for eight retinues to assemble. Four hours of noise and confusion. When everyone had finally passed through the outer gates, it seemed that the castle breathed a sigh of relief. In the wake of this sudden release of tension, servants and guards milled about. They grouped together in small clumps, taking a break before cleaning the eight guest suites. It was during this lull in activity that the Commander informed the rest of the castle staff that the Sitian delegation was scheduled to arrive the next day. His words struck like lightning. A flash of stunned silence was followed by a frenzy of activity as servants dashed off to make the proper preparations.

Although happy to see the backs of Mogkan and Brazell, I wandered listlessly about the castle. I hadn’t given Valek his answer. To live, I had to go south, but without the antidote, I wouldn’t survive. Dread filled my heart as the reality of my inevitable fate filled my mind.

The next day, my presence was required at the special greeting ceremony for the arriving southern delegation. Apprehension about seeing the Sitians unsettled my stomach. I felt as if someone were saying, “Yelena, take a good look at what you can’t have.”

Since the throne room had been converted into an office, the only place in the castle suitable for state affairs was the Commander’s war room. Once again, Valek stood stiffly in his dress uniform on the Commander’s right side, while I waited behind them.

My apprehension turned to awe as I felt the waves of nervous energy pulsing from the high-ranking officials and advisers selected to be a part of the ceremony. When the delegation was announced and invited to enter, I moved to get a better view.

The Sitians floated into the room. Their long, brightly colored, exotic robes draped to the floor, covering their feet. Wearing animal masks trimmed with bright plumes of feathers and fur, they stopped before the Commander and fanned out into a V-shape.

Their leader, wearing a hawk’s face, spoke in formal tones. “We bring you greetings and salutations from your southern neighbors. We hope this meeting will bring our two lands closer together. To show our commitment to this endeavor, we have come prepared to reveal ourselves to you.” The speaker and the four companions removed their masks in one rehearsed movement.

I blinked several times in astonishment, hoping that during the seconds of darkness everything would be set right. Unfortunately, my world had just mutated from bad to wretched. Valek glanced at me with a resigned look as if he, too, couldn’t believe this new turn of events.

The Sitian leader was Irys. A master-level magician stood a mere three feet before Commander Ambrose.

26

“IXIA WELCOMES YOU TO OUR land, and hopes to make a fresh start,” the Commander announced to the southern delegation.

As I waited behind the Commander, I wondered what would happen to the Sitians once Valek informed the Commander that Irys was a magician. Contemplating the mischief she might create before leaving the castle, I tried to envision a best-case scenario. I failed, realizing this was probably only the beginning of the end.

Valek watched thoughtfully as the southerners and the Commander exchanged more formal statements. I guessed from Valek’s demeanor that Irys had not used her magic. After the official greeting ceremony concluded, the delegation was guided to their quarters to rest from their journey and to await the evening’s feast. Protocol decreed that pleasantries and entertainment preceded hard-core negotiations.

Everyone, except the Commander and Valek, filed out of the war room. I started to leave, but Valek grabbed my arm.

“Okay, Valek, let’s hear it. Some dire warning I presume?” the Commander asked, sighing.

“The Sitian leader is a master magician,” Valek said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He probably wasn’t used to being sighed at.

“That’s to be expected. How else could they know we’re sincere about creating a trade treaty? We could have ambushed them instead. It’s a logical move.” Unconcerned, the Commander turned toward the door.

“She doesn’t trouble you?” Valek asked. “She’s tried to kill Yelena.”

The Commander looked at me for the first time since we had entered the war room. “It would be unwise to kill my food taster. Such an act could be misinterpreted as an assassination attempt and halt negotiations. Yelena is safe…for now.” He shrugged off any more thought of my future safety and left the war room.

Valek grimaced. “Damn.”

“Now what?” I asked.

He kicked at one of the conference chairs. “I anticipated a magician with the southern delegation, but not her.”

He shook his head, as if to clear the frustration that gripped his voice. “I’ll leave the power twins assigned to you while she’s here. Although, if she’s determined to get you, there’s nothing they or I can do. I lucked out with Mogkan. I was just around the corner when I felt his power surge. Let’s hope she behaves while she’s a guest in our land.”

Valek pushed the chair against the table with a loud bang. “At least I know where all the magicians are. Mogkan was the one I felt during the Generals’ brandy meeting. And the southern master is now in the castle. Unless any more decide to show up, we should be safe.”

“What about Captain Star?” I asked.

“Star’s a charlatan. Her claims of being a magician are just a tactic for scaring her informers so they don’t double-cross her.” Valek sighed.

“Generals, Sitians and feasts increase my workload. Which reminds me, you need to stay for the entire feast tonight. A tiresome chore, but at least the food should be good. I’ve heard Rand wanted to use the Criollo for a new dessert, but the Commander refused his request. Another puzzle, since Brazell has been sending the stuff by the wagonload, and has promised to ship the dessert to all the other Generals. They were clamoring after it like it was gold.”

I saw a flash in Valek’s eye. “Any unusual symptoms, feelings or appetites since you stopped eating the Criollo?”

It had been three days since I had eaten a piece, and I couldn’t recall any actual physical symptoms that might be linked to it. Eating it had lifted my spirits and given me a boost of energy. I longed for its sweet taste especially now that my chances for freedom had dwindled.

“A mild craving,” I told Valek. “But nothing like an addiction. I find myself thinking about it from time to time, wishing for a piece.”

Valek frowned. “It might be too soon. The Criollo could still be in your bloodstream. You’ll inform me if something happens?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight.”

Poor Valek, I thought, stuffed into his dress uniform three times in as many days. Elaborate decorations had been hung in the dining room for the feast. Crimson and black drapes hung along the walls, and red and gold streamers twisted and dipped from the ceiling. The room was ablaze with light. An elevated platform had been constructed to support a head table where the southern delegation, the Commander and Valek all wore their finest clothes. High-ranking officers and upper-level advisers were seated at round tables circling the room, leaving the middle empty. In the corner a twelve-piece band played sedate music, which was a surprise since the Commander frowned on music, considering it a waste of time.

I sat behind Commander Ambrose so he could pass his plate to me. As predicted, the food was marvelous. Rand had outdone himself.

My dark uniform blended in with the black drapes along the wall, and since I doubted anyone beyond the dais noticed I was there, I watched the others as I waited between courses. Ari and Janco sat next to each other at a table by the door. Attending their first formal function as Captains, they were clearly uncomfortable. Knowing them, I was sure they would rather be drinking beer with their comrades back in the barracks.

Irys and her retinue were seated to the Commander’s left. Their formal robes had swirls of color and glittered in the firelight. Irys wore a diamond pendant shaped like a flower, which sparkled on her chest. She ignored my presence, which was fine with me.

After the servants cleared the meal from the tables, they extinguished half of the lanterns. The band quickened their tempo until a pulsating rhythm vibrated the glassware on the tabletops. Costumed dancers burst into the room, holding blazing staffs high above their heads. Fire dancers! They performed an intricate and complex routine. Watching them whirl and spin to the beat left me gasping for breath. I understood now why their festival tent had been so packed with enthusiastic fans.

At one point, Valek leaned back in his chair and said to me, “I don’t think I would have made it past the audition, Yelena. I probably would have set my hair on fire by this point.”

“What’s a singed head for the sake of art?” I teased. He laughed. The mood of the room was energetic and elated. I hoped the Commander wouldn’t wait fifteen more years before having another feast.

The dancers finished their second encore and exited the room. Irys rose to offer a toast. The Sitians had brought their finest cognac. Irys poured a glass for the Commander, Valek and herself. She didn’t seem offended when the Commander’s goblet passed to me.

I swirled the amber liquid and inhaled the sharp odor. Taking a small sip, I rolled the cognac around my tongue, then spat it onto the floor. Gagging and retching with the effort, I tried to expel every last bit of it from my mouth. Valek stared in alarm.

I choked out, “My Love.”

Valek knocked over the other two glasses, spilling their contents on the table. As my body reacted to the poison, I watched Valek turn into a black ink spot, and the walls run with blood.

I floated on a crimson sea, colors dancing and whirling around my head. The sound of broken glass raining on stones created an odd melody in my mind. I drifted on a raft made of curly white hair, carried along by a strong current. Irys’s soothing voice spoke amidst the tempest of colors, “You’ll be fine, just hold on to your life raft. You can ride out this storm.”

I awoke in my room. A dim lantern had been lit, and Janco sat in a chair, reading a book. This was much nicer than the last time I had tasted My Love. A soft bed was preferable to lying in a pool of my own vomit. Although this habit of waking in my room without knowing how I got here had to stop.

“Why, Janco, I didn’t know you could read,” I teased. My voice was hoarse, my throat sore and a dull ache resided deep in my head.

“I’m a man of many unknown talents.” Janco smiled. “Welcome back.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Two days.”

“What happened?”

“After you turned into a madwoman?” Janco asked. “Or why you turned into one?”

I grimaced. “After.”

“It’s amazing how fast Valek can move,” Janco said with admiration. “He pushed you out of sight onto the floor while corking the tainted bottle and using some sleight of hand to swap it for another. He apologized to everyone about being clumsy, and proceeded to pour three new glasses so that southern witch could make her phony toast. The whole incident was smoothed over so quick that only the people on the dais knew what really happened.”

Janco scratched at his goatee. “Well, they and Ari. He had his eye on you all night, so when you went down, we were on our way. We slipped behind the head table during the toast and he carried you here. He’d still be here, but I forced him at knifepoint to get some sleep.”

Ah, that explained my curly-haired raft. I sat up. The ache in my head intensified. A water pitcher rested on my night table. I poured a glass, draining it dry.

“Valek said you’d be thirsty. He’s been here a couple of times, but he’s been busy with the southerners. I can’t believe that witch had the audacity to try to poison the Commander.”

“She didn’t. Remember? She poured three glasses from the same bottle. Someone else must have,” I said. But the culprit eluded me as the effort of concentrating made my head pound.

“Unless she was going for a murder-suicide. A quick death instead of waiting in our dungeon to be hanged.”

“Possible,” I said, but I thought it unlikely.

“Valek must agree with you. The treaty discussions are proceeding as if nothing happened.” Janco yawned. “Well, now that you’re coherent again, I’ll get some sleep. It’s another four hours until dawn.” Janco pushed me back down on the bed. “Get some rest. We’ll be back in the morning.”

He studied me, indecision creasing his face. “Ari said you screamed and raved a lot while he took care of you. In fact, he said that if Reyad was alive today, he’d gut the bastard without a moment’s hesitation. I just thought you might want to know.” Janco gave me a brotherly kiss on the forehead and left.

Oh great, I groaned. What else did Ari know? How would I be able to face him in the morning? Well, I thought, nothing I could do about it now. I tried to go back to sleep, but my empty stomach kept growling. All I could think of was food. I examined my hunger, trying to deduce if it was a mental command from Irys like Mogkan had done to me before, but I couldn’t come up with a good reason why she would summon me.

Once I had decided to risk the trip, I strapped on my switchblade and made my way on wobbly legs to the kitchen, where I hoped to sneak in and grab some bread before Rand woke up to start his dough.

Slicing off a chunk of cheese to eat along with my loaf, I was about to leave, when Rand’s door opened.

“Yelena,” he said in surprise.

“Morning, Rand. Just stealing some food.”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” he grumped. “Where’ve you been?” He moved toward the ovens. Opening the first black metal door, he stoked the embers of the fire and added more coal.

“I’ve been busy. You know. The Generals. The delegation. The feast. Which, by the way, was magnificent, Rand. You’re a genius.”

He perked up after I appealed to his ego. I resigned myself to the fact that, if I wanted him to think we were still friends, I would have to talk to him. I placed my breakfast on a table and pulled up a stool.

Rand limped toward me. “Someone said you were sick?”

“Yeah. Stomach bug. Haven’t eaten in two days, but I’m better now.” I gestured to the bread.

“Hold off, I’ll make you some sweet cakes.”

I watched him mix the batter, making sure he didn’t slip in a poisonous ingredient. But after the cakes were under my nose, I dug into them with mindless abandon. The familiar scene of Rand making bread while I sat close by dissolved the awkwardness between us. We were soon chatting and laughing.

It wasn’t until his questions turned pointed and specific that I realized Rand was pumping me for information about the Commander and Valek. I clenched my fork, stabbing it hard into my sweet cakes.

“Hear anything about this southern treaty?” Rand asked.

“No.” My tone was harsh, and he looked at me with curiosity. “Sorry, I’m tired. I better get back to bed.”

“Before you go, you might as well take these beans along.” Rand pulled down the glass jar. “I’ve sautéed, ground, even boiled them, but they still taste unrecognizably terrible.” He poured them into a bag, and went to check on his baking fires.

Watching him stir the glowing coals gave me an idea. “Maybe they’re not to eat,” I said. “Maybe they’re a source of fuel.” The southern pods had been delivered to Brazell’s new factory. Perhaps he was using them to heat his ovens.

“Worth a try,” Rand said.

I threw the beans into the hearth fire. We waited for a while, but there were no sudden flames or increase in temperature. While Rand switched his bread pans, I stared into the embers, thinking that as far as the mystery of the beans was concerned, I was out of options.

When Rand started again with his questions, I turned my eyes away from the oven’s fire. Pressure knotted in my throat. “I’d better get going or Valek will be wondering where I am.”

“Yes, by all means go. I noticed you and Valek have become close. Tell him, for me, not to kill anybody, will you?” Sarcasm rendered Rand’s voice sharp.

I lost control and slammed the oven door shut. It echoed in the quiet kitchen. “At least Valek has the decency to inform me when he’s poisoning me,” I blurted out, but wished I could pull the words from the air and stuff them back into my mouth. Blaming my fatigue, my anger, or Rand for my outburst wouldn’t erase what I had just said.

His facial expressions contorted and vacillated from surprise to guilt to anger. “Did Star tell you?” he demanded.

“Ah…” I was at a loss. If I said yes, he would find out from Star that I was lying, and if I said no, he would insist on knowing my source. Either way, he’d figure it out. I had just revealed Valek’s entire undercover operation.

Fortunately, Rand didn’t wait for me to answer before launching into a tirade. “I should have known she would tell you. She loves to play nasty head games. When you came along, I didn’t want to know you. All I wanted was the heap of gold credit that Star offered to apply to my debt if I spiked Valek’s test.” Rand pounded the table. “Then my damn morals and your damn niceness complicated things. Selling information about you, then having to protect you without looking like I was protecting you made my life hell.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” I said. “I guess I should be grateful, poisonings and kidnappings aside.” Sarcasm sharpened my voice.

Rand rubbed his hands over his face. His anger had dissipated. “I’m sorry, Yelena. I was backed into a corner and I couldn’t get out without hurting someone.”

I softened. “Why did Star want me poisoned?”

“General Brazell commissioned her. That shouldn’t be a surprise.”

“No.” I thought for a moment, and then asked, “Rand, is there anyone who can help you get out of this mess? Maybe Valek?”

“Absolutely not! Why do you have such an elevated opinion of him? He’s a murderer. You should hate him just for giving you Butterfly’s Dust. I would.”

“Who told you?” I demanded. “Who else knows? I thought only the Commander and Valek knew.”

“Your predecessor, Oscove, told me why he never tried to run, and no, I haven’t sold that information to anyone. I do have limits.” He tugged at his apron. “Oscove’s hatred of Valek rivaled my own, and I understood that, but your relationship with Valek…” Rand’s furrowed brows spiked up toward his forehead.

“You’re in love with him,” he cried.

“That’s preposterous,” I shouted.

We gaped at each other, too stunned to say anything more.

Then a sweet, nutty aroma reached my nose. Rand, too, sniffed the air. I followed the scent to the oven where I had tossed the mystery beans into the fire. Opening the door, I was greeted by a strong puff of heavenly scent. Criollo.

27

“WHERE DID YOU FIND those beans?” Rand asked. “They’re the missing ingredient to the Criollo recipe. I didn’t think of roasting them to change the flavor.”

“A storeroom downstairs,” I lied. I wasn’t about to tell him that Valek and I had intercepted them on the way to Brazell’s new factory. Which, I now realized, was probably not producing feed but manufacturing Criollo.

“Which storeroom?” Rand asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“I don’t remember.”

“Try harder. If I can duplicate Ving’s recipe for Criollo, then maybe I won’t be transferred.”

“Transferred? Where?”

“You mean Valek hasn’t gloated over it by now? He’s wanted to get rid of me since the takeover. I’m being sent to Brazell’s manor house, and Ving will come here. He won’t last a week!” Rand spat the words out with bitter force.

“When?”

“Don’t know. I haven’t gotten my transfer papers yet. So there’s some hope to stop it. If you can find me those beans.”

He thinks we’re still friends, I realized in amazement. Even after admitting to poisoning me and accusing me of loving his enemy, he believes I’ll do it for him. I had no response. I stalled. “I’ll try,” I said, then made a hasty exit.

The first flicker of dawn was cresting the Soul Mountains as I arrived at Valek’s suite unseen. The tall windows in the living area faced east, and in the weak gray light I saw Valek’s profile as he sat on the couch, waiting for me.

“Back so soon?” he asked. “Too bad. I was just about to organize a search for your dead body. What happened when you knocked on the southerner magician’s door to sacrifice yourself? Did they kick you out, thinking you too half-witted to waste their time on?”

I plopped on a chair to wait out Valek’s sarcastic lecture. No excuse I could offer would satisfy him. He was right, going out alone had been a foolish thing to do, but logic and an empty stomach were like oil and water, they didn’t mix.

When he was quiet, I asked, “Are you done?”

“What? No rebuttal?”

I shook my head.

“Then I’m finished.”

“Good,” I said. “Since you’re already in a bad mood, I might as well tell you what happened while I was in the kitchen. Actually two things: one bad, one good. Which would you like to hear first?”

“The bad,” Valek answered. “That allows me the hope that the good will balance things out.”

I braced myself and admitted to revealing his undercover operation. Valek’s face hardened.

“It’s your fault. I was defending you!” I blurted.

He paused. “In protecting my honor, you exposed months of work. I should be flattered?”

“You should,” I said. I wasn’t about to feel guilty. If he hadn’t tested my loyalty with Star and then used me to further his investigation, he wouldn’t be in this situation.

His shoulders drooped as he leaned back on the couch, kneading his temples. “I hadn’t planned on making arrests till later this month. Better implement my cleanup plan before Rand has a chance to alert Star.” Valek rubbed his eyes. “Still, this might be a benefit. I think Star’s becoming suspicious. She hasn’t been conducting any illicit business in her office. If I bring her in now, I might discover who hired her to poison the Sitian’s bottle.”

“Star? How?”

“She has a southern assassin in her employ. He would be the only one with the skill and the opportunity. I’m sure the poisoning wasn’t a result of Star’s personal political views. Her organization would do anything for anybody for the right price. I must find out who would risk so much to compromise the delegation.”

He stood up, energized. “What’s the good news?”

“The mystery beans are an ingredient in making Criollo.”

“Then why did Brazell lie on his permit application? There’s no law against manufacturing a dessert,” Valek said, matching my leap of logic about the true nature of Brazell’s factory.

“Perhaps because the beans are imported from Sitia,” I theorized. “That would be illegal; at least until the trade treaty is finalized. Maybe Brazell’s been using other southern ingredients or equipment as well.”

“Possible. Which is why he was so eager to have a treaty. You’ll have to take a good look around when you visit the factory.”

“What?”

“The Commander has scheduled a trip to MD–5 when the southerners leave. And where the Commander goes, you go.”

“What about you? You’re going too, aren’t you?” The panic welling in my throat made my voice squeak.

“No. I’ve been ordered to stay here.”

“One, and two, and three, four, five. Keep fighting like this and you will die,” Janco sang.

I was pinned against the wall. My bow clattered to the floor as Janco’s staff tapped my temple, emphasizing his point.

“What’s wrong? You’re rarely this easy to beat.” Janco leaned on his bow.

“Too distracted,” I said. It was only a day ago that Valek had informed me of the Commander’s plans.

“Then what are we doing here?” Ari asked. He and Maren had watched the match.

Still uncomfortable about what he might have heard when I was delusional, I had a hard time meeting Ari’s gaze. “Next round, I’ll try harder,” I said as Janco and I caught our breath. Reviewing our fight, I asked Janco, “Why do you rhyme when you fight?”

“It helps keep my rhythm.”

“Don’t the other soldiers give you a hard time about it?”

“Not when I beat them.”

We started another match. I made an effort to concentrate, but was beaten again.

“Now you’re trying too hard. I can see you planning each offensive move,” Janco said. “You’re giving yourself away, and I’m there for the block before you even strike.”

Ari added, “We drill for a reason. Offensive and defensive moves must be instinctive. Let your mind relax, but stay alert. Block out all distractions. Stay focused on your opponent, but not too focused.”

“That’s a contradiction,” I cried in frustration.

“It works,” was all Ari said.

I took a couple of deep breaths and cleared the distressing thoughts of my upcoming trip to Brazell’s district from my mind. Rubbing my hands along the bow, I concentrated instead on the smooth solidness of the weapon. I hefted it in my grip, trying to make a connection, creating an extension of my thoughts through the bow.

A light vibration tingled through my fingertips as I traced the wood grain. My consciousness flowed through the bow, twisting and turning along the grain, and back along my arm. I possessed the bow and my body at the same time.

I moved into the third round with a sense of heightened awareness. Intuitively, I knew what Janco was planning. A spilt second before he moved I had my bow up to block. Instead of scrambling to defend myself, I had more time to counter as well as block. I pushed Janco back. A beat of music pulsed in my mind, and I allowed it to guide my attack.

I won the match.

“Amazing,” Janco shouted. “Did you follow Ari’s advice?”

“To the letter.”

“Can you do it again?” Ari asked.

“Don’t know.”

“Try me.” Ari snatched his bow and assumed a fighting stance.

I rubbed my fingers along the bow’s wooden grain, setting my mind back into its previous mental zone. It was easier the second time.

Ari was a bigger opponent than Janco. What he lacked in speed, he made up for in strength. I had to modify my defense by dodging his strikes or he would have knocked me off my feet. Using my smaller size to duck under one of his blows, I swept my bow behind his ankles and yanked. He dropped like a sack of cornmeal. I had won again.

“Unbelievable,” Janco said.

“My turn,” Maren challenged.

Again, I tuned in to that mental zone. Maren’s attacks were panther-quick. She favored the fake jab to the face, which usually lured my guard up and away from protecting my torso, leaving it exposed for a body strike. This time, I was one step ahead of her, ignoring the fake and blocking the blow.

A clever opponent, she applied tactics instead of speed or strength. She charged me. And I knew she planned to move to my side when I stepped up to engage her. Instead of moving up, I spun and tripped her with my bow. Pouncing on her prone form, I pressed my staff against her neck until she conceded the match.

“Damn!” she said. “When a student starts beating her teacher, it means she doesn’t need her anymore. I’m walking.” Maren strode from the room.

Ari, Janco and I looked at each other.

“She’s kidding, right?” I asked.

“Blow to her ego. She’ll get over it,” Ari said. “Unless you start beating her every time you fight.”

“Unlikely,” I said.

“Very,” huffed Janco, who was probably nursing his own bruised ego.

“That’s enough fighting,” Ari said. “Yelena, why don’t you do some katas to cool down, and we’ll quit for the day.”

A kata was a fixed routine of different defensive and offensive blocks and strikes. Each kata had a name, and they grew more complex with each skill level. I started with a simple defensive bow kata.

As I moved I watched Ari and Janco become absorbed in conversation. I smiled, thinking that they bickered like an old married couple, and then concentrated on my kata. I practiced finding my mental fighting zone, sliding into and out of it while I performed the appropriate kata moves. Panting, I finished the routine, and noticed Irys watching me from the doorway with great interest.

She was wearing her hawk mistress uniform. Her hair had been tied back in accordance to Ixia’s military regulations. She had probably walked through the castle unchallenged.

I glanced toward my “bodyguards.” They were engrossed in their conversation, ignoring Irys and me. Uneasiness rolled in my stomach. I inched closer to my companions as she came into the room.

“Won’t Valek sense your magic?” I asked her, gesturing to Ari and Janco.

“He’s on the other side of the castle,” she said as she stepped nearer. “But I did feel someone pulling power before we arrived. Two brief surges. So there is or was another magician in the castle.”

“Wouldn’t you know?” I asked in alarm.

“Unfortunately no.”

“But you do know who it is? Right?”

She shook her head. “There are several magicians that have disappeared. They’re either dead or hiding. And some keep to themselves and we never know about them. It could be anyone. I can only identify a magician if I have established a link with him or her, as I have linked with you.” Irys examined the weapons lined against the wall.

“What’s wrong with the Commander?” she asked. “His thoughts are practically dripping out of his head. He’s so open, I could go in and extract any information I wanted if it weren’t against our moral code of ethics.”

I couldn’t answer her. “What are you doing here?” I asked instead.

Irys smiled. She gestured to the bow in my hands. “What were you doing with that weapon?”

Seeing no reason to lie, I explained about my training.

“How did you do today?” she asked.

“I beat all three opponents for the first time.”

“Interesting.” Irys seemed pleased.

I glanced over at Ari and Janco, who were still involved in their conversation. “Why are you here?” I asked again. “You promised me a year.” Then I had a sudden horrific thought. “Am I closer to flameout?”

“There’s still time. You’ve stabilized for now, but how close are you to coming to Sitia?”

“The antidote is beyond my reach. Unless you can steal the information from Valek’s mind?”

She frowned. “Impossible. But my healers say if you can filch enough antidote to last a month, there’s a possibility we can remove the poison from your body. Come with us when we leave. I have an adviser just your size. She’ll wear your uniform and lure Valek and his men away while you take her place. With a mask on, no one would know.” Irys spoke with assurance. She was either unconcerned or unaware of the risks.

Hope bloomed in my chest. My heart raced. I had to calm myself with a cold reminder that Irys had said there was a possibility of removing the poison. In other words, no guarantees. The escape plan appeared straightforward, but I searched for loopholes anyway. I knew better than to fully trust her.

Deciding, I said, “Adviser Mogkan was here last week. Is he one of your spies?”

“Mogkan, Mogkan.” She turned the name over her tongue.

“Tall with gray eyes and wears his long black hair in a single braid.” I formed a picture of him in my mind. “Valek said he has power.”

“Kangom! How unoriginal! He dropped from sight ten years ago. There was a big scandal about his alleged involvement with some kidnapping ring. Oh.” Irys inhaled sharply and studied my face. Giving her head a tight shake, she asked with keen interest, “So where has he been hiding?”

“MD–5. Is he wanted?”

“Only if he becomes a danger to Sitia. But that explains why we’ve been picking up occasional flares of magic from that direction.” She cocked her head as if straining to hear some faint music. “There is a faint flow of magic to the castle. It could be from Kangom…Mogkan, although it’s highly unlikely. He doesn’t have that kind of strength. It’s probably just a tiny ripple in the power source, like a loop of thread hanging down. It happens from time to time. But I did feel someone pulling power recently.” She paused, staring at me with her direct emerald gaze. “Are you coming with me?”

Mogkan’s magic might not concern her, but it concerned me. There seemed to be a link between Mogkan’s magic and the Commander’s unusual behavior, but I couldn’t quite grasp the reason why.

Undecided, I rolled it around my mind, much as I moved food in my mouth, tasting for danger. Running away had always been an automatic defensive move, and going south offered my best chance for survival. Months ago, I would have jumped at the offer, but now I felt as if I would be abandoning ship too soon, that there was a remedy yet to be discovered.

“No,” I said. “Not yet.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Probably, but I need to finish something first, then I’ll keep my promise and come to Sitia.”

“If you’re still alive.”

“Maybe you can help me. Is there some way I can shield my mind from magical influence?”

Irys cocked her head. “You’re worried about Kangom?”

“Very.”

“I think so. You’re strong enough to handle it.” She handed me the bow. “Do one of your katas, eyes closed, and clear your mind.”

I started a blocking bow kata.

“Imagine one brick. Place the brick on the ground, and then make a row of them. Using imaginary mortar, build another row. Keep building until you have a wall as high as your head.”

I did as she instructed, and heard a distinct tone as each brick was laid. A wall formed in my mind.

“Stop,” she ordered. “Open your eyes.”

My wall disappeared.

“Now block me!”

Loud music vibrated in my head, overwhelming me.

“Imagine your wall,” Irys shouted.

My brick defense flashed complete in my mind. The music stopped midnote.

“Very good. I suggest you finish your business and escape south. With that kind of strength, if you don’t achieve complete control of your magic, someone else might grab it and use it, leaving you a mindless slave.” Annoyance quirked her face as she spun on her heel and left the training room.

The moment the door clicked into place, Ari and Janco ended their conversation and blinked as if they had just woken from a deep sleep.

“Done already? How many katas?” Ari asked.

I laughed and put my bow away. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

When the Sitian delegation left three days later, I had a sudden panic attack. What the hell was I doing? My one perfect opportunity for escape had slipped away to the south, while I remained behind, preparing to leave for Brazell’s manor. Irys had been right; I was crazy. My breath hitched every time I thought of the trip. The Commander’s retinue was scheduled to depart in the morning.

I rushed around the castle, packing my own special provisions for the journey. Dilana’s sorrowful face greeted me when I stopped by her room for some traveling clothes. Rand’s paperwork had been finalized, she said. He was coming with us.

“I requested a transfer, but I doubt it’ll be approved,” Dilana said as she searched through her piles of clothing. “If only the lout had married me, then we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“There’s still time to submit the application. If it’s approved, you can travel to MD–5 for the wedding.”

“He doesn’t want to let anyone know how much he cares for me. He’s worried that my safety might be used as leverage against him.” She shook her head, refusing to be cheered even when I told her that the new trade treaty with Sitia would allow silk to be imported.

The southern treaty was a simple exchange of goods. Specific items were listed. Only merchants with the proper permits and licenses would be able to buy and sell these items at a fixed price. All caravans would be subject to inspection when crossing the Ixian border at the approved locations. Rand’s cup of coffee was only a few months away, but I doubted he would brew some for me since I hadn’t spoken to him since our argument in the kitchen. I couldn’t get him more beans, and I couldn’t explain why.

The morning of our departure was gray and overcast, hinting at snow. The cold season was beginning, which usually indicated the end of travel, not the onset of it. The snows would most likely keep the Commander’s retinue at Brazell’s until the thawing season. I shuddered at the thought.

Valek stopped me before I left our suite. “This is a very dangerous trip for you. Maintain a low profile and keep your eyes open. Question thoughts in your mind; they might not be your own.” He handed me a silver flask. “The Commander has your daily dose of antidote, but if he forgets to give it to you, here’s a backup supply. Tell no one that you have it, and keep it hidden.”

For the first time, Valek trusted me. The metal flask felt warm in my hands. “Thanks.”

A feather of fear brushed my stomach as I packed the flask into my backpack. Another danger I hadn’t recognized. What else had I missed?

“Wait, Yelena, there’s one more thing.” Valek’s manner and tone were strangely stiff and formal. “I want you to have this.” He extended his hand. On his palm sat the beautiful Butterfly he had carved. Silver spots on the wings glinted in the sunlight, and a silver chain hung from a small hole drilled into its body.

Valek looped the necklace around my neck. “When I carved this statue, I was thinking about you. Delicate in appearance, but with a strength unnoticed at first glance.” His eyes met mine.

My chest felt tight. Valek acted as if he would never see me again. His fear for my safety seemed genuine. But was he worried about me or his precious food taster?

28

COMMANDER AMBROSE’S TRAVELING entourage consisted of nearly fifty soldiers from his elite guard. Some led the way, others walked beside the Commander and his advisers atop their horses. Guards also bracketed the small group of servants, who preceded the horses. The remaining soldiers followed behind. Ari and Janco scouted the Commander’s planned route and were hours ahead of the procession.

We advanced at a brisk pace in the crisp morning air. The vivid colors of the hot season had long since drained from the forest, leaving behind a barren, gray-hued simplicity. I had tucked Valek’s Butterfly underneath my shirt, and found myself fingering the lump it made on my chest as we traveled. Valek’s gift had caused my emotions to roil. Just when I believed I had figured him out, he surprised me.

Carrying a pack, I also held a walking staff that was a thinly disguised bow. A few of the guards cast suspicious glances my way, but I ignored them. Rand refused to meet my gaze. He stared straight ahead in stony silence. It wasn’t long before he lagged behind; his leg prevented him from maintaining the pace.

After a stop for lunch, we continued until an hour before sunset. Major Granten, the official leader of the expedition, wanted to set up camp in the daylight. Spacious tents were raised for the Commander and his advisers, and smaller twoman tents were erected for the servants. I found I would share space with a woman named Bria, who ran errands and served the Commander’s advisers.

I settled into the tent while Bria warmed herself by the fire. Lighting a small lantern, I pulled out the book on war symbols that I had borrowed from Valek. After we had deciphered the name of the new successor, I hadn’t had a spare moment to interpret Janco’s message on my switchblade. There were six silver markings etched into the wooden handle. I began with the top and worked my way to the bottom. My smile grew wider with each translation. Janco could be so annoying, but underneath he could be so sweet.

When Bria entered the tent smelling of wood smoke, I shoved the book into my pack.

Disturbing dreams made for a restless night. I awoke tired in the gray fuzz of dawn. With the amount of time the procession took to eat and reassemble, plus the shorter hours of daylight, I estimated the excursion to Brazell’s manor house would take about five days.

On the second night of the trip, I found a note in my tent. A request for a rendezvous. The next evening while the soldiers set up camp, I was to follow a small, northbound trail that intersected the main road just past our campsite. The message was signed Janco, in a lavish hand. I examined the signature in the fading light, trying to remember if I’d ever seen Janco’s writing.

Genuine note or a trap? Should I go or should I stay in camp where it would be safe? I worried the question in my mind throughout the night and all through the third day on the road. What would Valek do in this particular situation? The answer helped me to form a plan.

When the signal to stop for the night sounded, I waited until everyone was occupied before leaving the clearing. Once out of sight, I swept off my cloak and turned it inside out. Before departing the castle I had procured gray cloth from Dilana, which I had then sewn into the inside lining of my cloak just in case I needed to hide in the winter landscape. I hoped the improvised ashen camouflage would be adequate in concealing my presence when I neared the meeting site.

I strapped my bow to my back, sheathed my switchblade on my right leg, then grabbed my rope and grappling hook from my backpack. I found the northern trail. Rather than walk down the narrow path, though, I sought a suitable tree and tossed my hook up into its branches. My first concern was the potential noise of my passage through the treetops, but I soon discovered that trees without leaves only creaked under my weight as I followed the trail.

Maneuvering close to the meeting site, I spotted a tall dark-haired man waiting at the prearranged location. He seemed restless and agitated. Too thin for Janco, I thought. Then the man turned in my direction. Rand.

What was he doing here? I circled the clearing. Discovering no threat lurking in the bushes, I climbed down to the path, leaving my rope hanging from the branch. I tucked my backpack behind the tree’s trunk.

“Damn,” Rand cursed. “I thought you weren’t going to show.” His haggard face had dark smudges under his eyes.

“And I thought Janco was supposed to be here.”

“I wanted to explain, but there’s no time, Yelena.” Rand’s haunted eyes bored into mine. “It’s a trap! Run!”

“How many? Where?” I demanded, pulling the bow from my back. I scanned the woods.

“Star and two goons. Close. Leading you here was supposed to pay off my debt.” Tears streaked Rand’s face.

I spun on him. “Well, you did a good job. I see you’re actually following through on this assignment.” I spat the words at him.

“No,” he cried. “I can’t do it. Run, damn you, run.”

Just as I moved to go, Rand’s eyes widened with fright.

“No!” He shoved me aside. Something whistled past my ear as I fell to the ground. Rand dropped beside me, an arrow in his chest. Blood welled, soaking his white uniform shirt.

“Run,” he whispered. “Run.”

“No, Rand,” I said, brushing the dirt from his face. “I’m tired of running.”

“Forgive me, please.” He clutched my hand as his eyes beseeched me through tears of pain.

“You’re forgiven.”

He sighed once, then stopped breathing. The shine in his brown eyes dulled. I pulled his hood over his head.

“Get up,” a man’s voice ordered.

I looked into the dangerous end of a loaded crossbow. Leaning on my bow, I rose. With my weight balanced on the balls of my feet, I rubbed my hands along the wooden staff, finding my zone of concentration.

“The area is secured, Captain,” the man called out to the woods. “Don’t move,” he said to me, leveling his weapon at my chest.

Footsteps approached. The man took his eyes off me to look for his companions. I moved.

My first bow strike landed across his forearms. The crossbow sailed from his hands, firing into the woods. My second strike went to the back of his knees. I knocked his feet out from under him. Lying flat on his back, he blinked at me with a stunned expression.

Before he could draw breath, I slammed the point of my bow straight down onto his neck, crushing his windpipe.

A quick glance over my shoulder revealed Star and another man rushing into the clearing. Star shouted and pointed. Her goon drew his sword. I raced down the trail, his heavy footsteps thundering after me. When I reached my rope, I tossed my bow into the woods before scrambling up into the tree. The man’s blade stabbed at my legs. Cloth ripped as his sword cut through my pants. The brush of cool steel on my thigh spurred me on.

He cursed as I leaped to the next tree. Moving fast, I swung through the treetops. When the sound of his crashing through the underbrush was far enough behind me, I found a good place to hide. Wrapping myself in my cloak, I hunkered down on a low branch and waited.

Star’s thug barreled though the woods. Not far from my perch, he stopped to listen, searching the treetops. My heart raced. I muffled my heavy breathing with my cloak. Sword raised, he hunted for me.

When he was below me, I threw off my cloak and launched myself, hitting his back with my feet. We fell hard. I rolled away and stood before he could recover, then kicked his sword from his hand. He was faster than I had anticipated. He grabbed my ankle, yanking me down.

Next thing I knew, his weight pressed on top of me and his hands were wrapped around my neck. Banging my head on the hard ground, he muttered, “That’s for giving me trouble.” Then he pressed his thumbs deep into my throat.

Dazed and choking, I plucked at his arms before I remembered my switchblade. I fumbled in my pockets as my vision blurred, turning to snow. The smooth feel of wood greeted my fingertips. I grasped the handle, pulled it out and triggered the button.

The snick of the blade caused fear to flicker in his eyes. For a moment he stared straight into my essence. Then I plunged the knife into his stomach. With a low growl, he increased the pressure on my neck. Blood, hot and sticky, ran down my arms, soaking my shirt. Through dizziness and pain, I jerked the weapon out and tried again. This time, I pointed the tip of the blade up toward his heart. The man hunched forward, driving the knife in farther, and finally collapsed.

The dead man’s weight impeded my starved lungs. Summoning my last bit of strength, I rolled his body off of me.

Dazed, I wiped my switchblade clean in the dirt, found my bow and went in search of Star.

Two men. I had just killed two men. A killing machine, I hadn’t even hesitated. Fear and rage settled deep in my chest, forming a layer of ice around my heart.

Star hadn’t gone far. She waited in the clearing. Her red hair blazed against the dark gray background of the forest dusk. Night would soon be on us.

She made a small noise of surprise when I stepped clear of the trees. Peering through the gloom, she studied the blood on my shirt. The wet material clung to my skin. When she saw I was unharmed, her sharp nose jerked her head around, searching for her goon.

“He’s dead,” I said.

The color drained from her face. “We can work this out.” A pleading note entered her voice.

“No, we can’t. If I let you walk away, you’ll only return with more men. If I take you to the Commander, I’d have to answer for killing your thugs. I’m out of options.” I stepped toward her, my body frozen with dread. The others I had killed in self-defense during the heat of battle; this would be difficult—this would be premeditated.

“Yelena, stop!” someone called from behind me. I spun. One of the Commander’s soldiers stood with a sword in his hand. As he moved closer, I judged the distance between us.

He must have recognized my battle stance because he stopped and sheathed his sword. Pulling the wool cap off his head, he let his black curls spring free.

“I thought you had orders to stay at the castle,” I said to Valek. “Won’t you be court-martialed?”

“And I thought your killing days were over,” he replied as he examined the prone form of Star’s thug. His crushed windpipe had suffocated him. “Tell you what. If you don’t tell, I won’t. That way we can both avoid the noose. Deal?”

I jerked my head at Star. “What about her?”

“There’s an arrest warrant out for her. Did you even consider taking her to the Commander?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Valek didn’t try to hide his disbelief. “Killing isn’t the only solution to a problem. Or has that been your formula?”

“My formula! Excuse me, Mr. Assassin, while I laugh as I remember my history lessons on how to deal with a tyrannical monarch by killing him and his family.”

Valek flashed me a dangerous look.

I was on the edge. Changing tactics, I said, “My actions were based on what I thought you would do if you were ambushed.”

He considered my words in silence for an uncomfortable length of time.

Star seemed horrified by our discussion. She glanced around as if planning her escape.

“You really don’t know me at all,” Valek said.

“Think about it, Valek, if I took her to the Commander and explained the details, what would happen to me?”

The sad knowledge in his face said it all. I would be arrested for killing Star’s men, the food taster’s job would pass on to the next prisoner awaiting execution and I would spend my last few days in a dank dungeon.

“Well, then, it was fortunate for both of you that I arrived,” Valek said. He whistled a strange birdcall just as Star made her escape.

She dashed down the trail. I moved to follow, but Valek told me to wait. Two gray forms materialized from the dark forest on either side of the road. They grabbed Star. She yelped in surprise and anger.

“Take her back to the castle,” Valek ordered. “I’ll deal with her when I get back. Oh, and send a cleanup crew. I don’t want anyone stumbling onto this mess.”

They began to pull Star away.

“Wait,” she said. “I have information. If you release me, I’ll tell you who plotted to ruin the Sitian treaty.”

“Don’t worry.” Valek’s blue eyes held an icy glare. “You’ll tell me.” He was about to walk past her, when he paused. “However, if you want to reveal your patron now, then we can skip a painful interrogation later.”

Star’s nose twitched as she considered his offer. Even in this situation, she was still the shrewd businesswoman.

“Lying would only worsen your predicament,” Valek warned.

“Kangom,” she said through clenched teeth. “He wore a basic soldier’s uniform with MD–8 colors.”

“General Dinno,” Valek said without surprise.

“Describe Kangom,” I ordered, knowing that Kangom was another name for Adviser Mogkan, but unable to tell Valek how I had come by this information.

“Tall. Long black hair in a soldier’s braid. An arrogant bastard. I almost kicked him out, but he showed me a pile of gold I couldn’t refuse,” Star said.

“Anything else?” Valek asked.

Star shook her head. Valek snapped his fingers. As the camouflaged men escorted Star back toward the castle, I said, “Could it be Mogkan?”

“Mogkan?” Valek looked at me as if I had sprouted antennae. “No. Brazell was far too happy about the delegation. Why would he jeopardize the treaty? That doesn’t make sense. Dinno on the other hand was furious with the Commander. He probably sent one of his men to hire Star.”

I tried to fathom the reason why Mogkan would endanger the treaty negotiations when trade with Sitia was to Brazell’s benefit. Unable to deduce a logical answer, I wondered how I could convince Valek that Mogkan had hired Star.

I began to shiver. Blood soaked my uniform shirt and stained my hands. I wiped the blood on my ripped pants. Retracing my steps, I found my cloak, but before I could swing it over my shoulders, Valek said, “You better leave your clothes here. There would be quite a fuss if you showed up for dinner soaked with blood.”

I retrieved my pack from behind the tree. Valek turned his back while I changed into a clean uniform. I wondered if he had any more sneaks in the woods as I wrapped my cloak around me.

We set out for the camp.

“By the way, nice work,” Valek said as we passed the second dead body. “I saw the fight. I wasn’t close enough to help. You held your own. Who gave you the knife?”

“I bought it with Star’s money.” A stretch of the truth, but I wasn’t about to get Janco into trouble.

Valek snorted. “Fitting.”

When we arrived, Valek melted into a group of soldiers while I rushed to the Commander’s tent to taste his dinner. The entire Star episode had taken only an hour and a half, but my battered body felt as if I’d been gone for days.

As I sat by the campfire that night, my muscles trembled in reaction to the fight. Grief for Rand surprised me as melancholy thoughts filled my mind. The flames of the fire wiggled accusing red fingers at me. What do you think you’re doing? they asked. Three men are dead because of you. How are you going to help anyone? Pure conceit, the flames admonished. Go south. Let Valek worry about the Commander and what Brazell’s up to, you silly girl. The fire pulsed, making shooing motions at me.

I pulled my gaze away, blinking into the darkness. Was it my imagination or was someone trying to influence me? Summoning the mental image of my protective brick wall cooled some of the doubts, but not all of them.

Rand’s disappearance wasn’t noticed until the next morning. Thinking he had run away, Major Granten sent out a small search party, while the others continued deeper into Brazell’s district.

The rest of the journey was uneventful except for the disturbing fact that the closer we drew to Brazell’s manor house, the blanker the look grew on the Commander’s face. He had ceased to give orders or to take an interest in the events surrounding him. The intelligent, piercing glint that had made his gaze lethal faded with each step, leaving only a vacant, dull expression in its place.

In contrast to the Commander, I was beginning to feel rather warm. My hands left slick prints on my bow as we neared Brazell’s. I scanned the woods for an ambush as dread hovered behind me like a pair of hands waiting to wrap around my neck. The ground felt soft and sucked at my boots so that each step required an extra effort. Big mistake, big mistake, coming to Brazell’s, I thought as my mind whirled on the edge of panic. To calm myself I imagined my brick wall, and focused my thoughts on survival.

An hour away from Brazell’s, the rich aroma of Criollo hung heavy in the air. As a precaution, I slipped into the forest off the main trail and stashed my backpack in the crook of a tree, hiding my bow nearby. Taking only my picks from the bag, I pulled my hair into a bun, using the thin metal tools to hold it in place.

At the outer buildings of Brazell’s manor our pace slowed. A collective sigh of relief rippled through the soldiers. They had safely delivered the Commander. Now they could rest in the barracks until it was time to return home.

I experienced the opposite of the soldiers’ ease despite my mental protection. I found it difficult to breathe as I followed the Commander and his advisers to Brazell’s office. I heard the liquid slamming in my heart, and felt light-headed.

When we entered, Brazell rose from behind his desk, a large smile adorning his square face. Mogkan hovered behind Brazell’s right shoulder. With my mental shield in place, I remained near the door, hoping to be inconspicuous. As Brazell recited a formal greeting, I surveyed his office. Lavish in its decoration, the room had a heavy, brooding feel. Black walnut wood framed hunting scenes, and crimson and purple velvet draped the windows. Brazell’s oversize ebony desk seemed a barrier between his high-backed leather chair and the two overstuffed, velvet seats facing it.

“Gentlemen, you must be tired from your trip,” Brazell said to the Commander’s advisers as a tall woman entered the office. “My housekeeper will guide you to your rooms.”

She motioned for them to follow her. As the advisers exited the room, I tried to slip out with them, but Mogkan grabbed my arm.

“Not yet,” he said. “We have special plans for you.”

Alarmed, I glanced at the Commander, sitting in one of the chairs. The abundant purple fabric of the cushion exaggerated his pale face and slight build. No expression touched his features; he stared into the distance. A puppet waiting for his master to pull the strings.

“Now what?” Brazell asked Mogkan.

“We put on a show for a few days. Take him to see the factory as planned.” Mogkan gestured toward the Commander. “Keep his advisers happy. Once everyone’s hooked, then we don’t have to pretend.”

“And her?” Satisfaction bent the edges of Brazell’s mouth.

I kept the picture of the brick wall in my mind.

“Yelena,” Mogkan said, “you’ve learned a new trick. Red brick, how mundane. But…”

I heard a faint scraping noise like stone grinding on stone.

“Weak spots. Here and here.” Mogkan pointed a finger in the air. “And I do believe this brick is loose.”

Mortar crumbled. Small holes appeared in my mental wall.

“When I have a moment, I’ll smash your defenses into dust,” Mogkan promised.

“Why waste your time?” Brazell asked, drawing his sword. “Dead. Now.” He advanced with murderous intent blazing in his eyes. I flinched back a step.

“Stop,” Mogkan ordered. “We need her to keep Valek in line.”

“But we have the Commander,” Brazell whined like a child.

“Too obvious. There are seven other Generals to consider. If we kill the Commander while he’s here they would be suspicious. You’d never become his successor. Valek knows this, so any threat to the Commander won’t work.” Mogkan turned his calculating eyes on me. “But who cares about a food taster? No one except Valek. And if she dies here, the Generals will agree that it was justified.”

Mogkan leaned over the Commander, whispering in his ear. The Commander opened his briefcase, withdrew a flask and handed it to Mogkan. My antidote.

“Starting now, you’ll come to me for your medicine,” Mogkan said, smiling.

Before I could react, someone knocked on the door. Two soldiers entered the office without waiting for permission.

“Your escorts are here, Yelena. They’ll take good care of you.” Mogkan turned to the guards. “She doesn’t need a tour. Our infamous Yelena has come home.”

29

I SCANNED THE TWO MUSCULAR guards. Swords, short knives and manacles hung from their belts. They were well armed, and wore grim expressions of recognition. I was outmatched. I touched the familiar lump of the switchblade strapped to my thigh, but decided to wait until the odds were more in my favor.

The guards gestured for me to accompany them. I shot a final beseeching look at the Commander, but nothing so far had roused him from his oblivious stupor.

I felt a small surge of hope when the guards led me to a tiny, barren room in the guest wing instead of the underground cells in which Brazell housed his prisoners. Having spent a week in those dank, rat-infested chambers after I killed Reyad, I loathed the thought of ever going back.

After the door was locked behind me, I took comfort from removing the picks from my hair. The lock was a basic pin-and-tumbler type, which would be easy to open. Before springing it, I slipped a small pick with a mirror on the end under the door. With the mirror, I spied a pair of boots standing on either side. Those overachieving guards had stationed themselves outside my room.

I went to the window. The guest wing was on the second floor. My view included the main courtyard. I could jump to the ground if I was desperate, but for now I would wait.

The next day, I was permitted out of my room only to taste the Commander’s meals. After breakfast, Mogkan waved a small vial of antidote in front of my face.

“If you want this, you must answer a question,” he said.

I steadied my nerves. With a calm voice, I replied, “You’re bluffing. If you wanted me dead, I wouldn’t be standing here now.”

“I assure you, it’s only a temporary condition.” Anger burned in his eyes. “I’m merely offering you a choice. Death by Butterfly’s Dust is a long, ugly and excruciating experience, while, say, slitting your throat is quick—a moment of pain.”

“What’s the question?”

“Where’s Valek?”

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. I hadn’t seen Valek since the fight in the woods. Mogkan considered my answer. Taking advantage of his distracted state, I plucked the vial from his hand and drained it in a single gulp.

Mogkan’s face reddened with fury. He seized my shoulders then shoved me toward the guards. “Take her back to her room,” he ordered.

Once there, I wondered what mischief Valek was creating. I doubted he was sitting idle. Mogkan’s questions on Valek’s whereabouts confirmed my suspicions. Restless, I paced the small chamber, longing for a workout with Ari and Janco.

During my brief visits with the Commander over the next few days, I began to recognize that my presence was part of Mogkan’s show. In order to keep the Commander’s advisers from becoming suspicious, Brazell pretended the Commander was still giving orders. At one point, Brazell leaned close to the Commander as if they were having a private conversation, then proclaimed that, per Commander Ambrose’s request, a factory tour would be scheduled for the next day.

I was allowed to join the group going to the plant. This surprised me almost as much as the fact that none of the Commander’s advisers made a protest or comment about Brazell manufacturing Criollo instead of the livestock feed he had reported on his permit. They munched on bars of Criollo, content to nod and agree with Brazell that the factory was a marvelous invention.

As we walked through the building, sweltering heat pulsed from the gigantic roasters that were continuously fed with Sitian beans. Workers, streaked with sweat and black dust, shoveled coal into the massive fires under the ovens. Once roasted, the beans were conveyored to a large area where other workers cracked their shells with mallets, extracting a dark brown nib. Steel rollers crushed the nibs into a paste. The paste was spooned into a five-foot-wide metal container to which sugar, milk and butter were added. Using steel pitchforks, workers stirred these ingredients until the mixture became a smooth, thick liquid, which was then poured into square and rectangular-shaped molds.

A veritable shop of delightful smells and flavors, the place was, however, a joyless environment. The dour employees, uniforms soiled with Criollo and sweat, grunted and strained under the physical exertion. During the tour, I searched the various work areas for poisonous or addictive ingredients that might be slipped into the mix but found none.

When the group returned to Brazell’s manor house, I watched the animated expressions on the advisers’ faces leak away, leaving behind the same blank look that had taken over the Commander’s face. Which meant that there must be a link between eating Criollo and succumbing to Mogkan’s magic. Mogkan’s show would end as soon as he had gained control of the advisers’ minds, and when that happened my accommodations would change for the worse.

That night, under cover of darkness, I dropped my cloak out the window of my room and banged on the door, calling to the guards.

When the door opened, I declared, “I need a bath.” Without waiting for a response, I strode with purpose down the hallway. The guards followed.

At the baths, one guard stopped me in the hallway while his companion looked around inside. Only when he was sure I would be alone did he nod and step back.

As I went through the entrance, I said in an authoritative voice, “I don’t need an audience. Wait here, I won’t be long.”

To my delight they remained outside. I scurried to the far wall where, hidden from view, there was another entrance. The guards might work in the manor house, but I’d grown up here. With a child’s curiosity and free time, I had been able to explore almost every corner of the house. Only Brazell’s private suite, office and Reyad’s wing had been off-limits. Unfortunately once I turned sixteen, Reyad’s wing became my daily nightmare. Pushing away the thought, I concentrated on the present.

I pulled the handle of the door and encountered my first unwanted surprise. It was locked. No problem, I thought, reaching for my picks. The mechanism popped with ease, the door swung open, and I discovered a second nasty shock. One of the guards waited in the hallway.

He smirked. I rushed him. Using my momentum, I shoved him off balance and punched him in the groin. A dirty Valek move, but I didn’t care as I raced down the corridor, leaving the guard far behind.

Slipping out the south entrance, I retrieved my cloak, and then headed west to find my pack and bow. Bright moonlight illuminated my path, and I could see where I was going; however, my true path was less evident. I knew I couldn’t help the Commander from a locked room, but I was unsure what I could do from the outside. I needed to talk to Valek. Deciding it would be too risky to go to the barracks, I took to the treetops. Only Valek knew this trick. Once he learned of my escape, he would track me.

When I reached the open area reserved for the annual fire festival’s visit to MD–5, I stopped for the night. Shivering in my cloak, I huddled against a tree trunk, blowing clouds of steam from my mouth. Once, I heard the baying of dogs and distant shouts, but no one came close to my makeshift bed in the tree. Sleep eluded me; I was too cold and nervous. Instead, I envisioned the bright fabric of the festival tents in the clearing, hoping to warm myself by remembering the hot energy of the festival nights.

I imagined the big tops in their proper places. Dancers, singers and acrobats lined up in the middle of the clearing. Food stands huddled in and around the big tents, scenting the air with mouthwatering treats. I went to the festival every hot season when I had lived under Brazell’s roof. It had been the highlight of my existence. Although my memories of those last two years, when I had been Reyad’s laboratory rat, were dreadful.

Unable to resist, I climbed down from the tree and walked through my imaginary festival. I stopped where the acrobatics tent had stood, wondering if I could still perform the tumbling routine that had won me first place and the fire amulet. Without thought, I tossed off my cloak and started a warm-up. In the back of my mind, I knew I should be hiding, that it was stupid to be this exposed to discovery, but the desire to relive my one moment of true joy was too strong to deny.

Soon all thoughts of Brazell, Reyad and Mogkan were banished as I spun and soared through the air. My mind settled into the mental zone of pure concentration I used when I fought. I relished the release, brief as it might be, from my days of tension and threat.

As I performed my routine, I discovered that I could push my heightened awareness beyond my body to encompass the trees, even sense the animals in the forest. An owl, perched high on a branch, tracked the movements of a field mouse. A family of possums slipped without sound through the underbrush. A woman, crouched behind a stone, watched me.

Stealing into Irys’s mind was as easy as slipping on a pair of gloves. Her thoughts flowed into my mind like silk. I reminded her of her younger sister, Lily, and she longed to be back home with her family, not sneaking around in cold, horrid Ixia. The situation in the north was getting dangerous; she would be safer in Sitia. But for how long? she wondered. As a master-level magician, she couldn’t allow the abuse of power that she had felt emanating from this area to continue. Kangom, who called himself Mogkan, was producing Theobroma at alarming quantities. He had also rigged a way to intensify his power.

Irys’s thoughts returned to me, and I felt a tug on our mental connection.

Yelena, what are you doing in my mind?

I’m not sure how I got here.

Haven’t you figured it out by now? You’re focusing your magic when you fight. That’s why you instinctively anticipate your opponent’s moves. I felt you at the castle when you were fighting your friends. Now that you have learned to harness your power, you have taken the next logical step by expanding it beyond the immediate area.

My surprise broke our link. I stopped, panting in the cold night air as Irys emerged from the woods.

“Does that mean I’m not going to flame out?” I asked.

“You’ve stabilized, but you won’t get any stronger unless you receive the proper training. You don’t want to waste your potential. Come south now; your pursuers are miles away.”

“The Commander…”

“Is ensorcelled. Nothing you can do; his mind is probably gone. Mogkan has been feeding him Theobroma. I’ve smelled it since I arrived.”

“Theobroma? Do you mean Criollo? The brown-colored sweet that Brazell’s manufacturing.”

“That sounds right. It opens a mind to magical influence. It relaxes the mental defenses, allowing easy access to someone’s mind. We use it as a training tool in controlled situations where a fledgling magician is close to the subject. The Commander has a strong personality, very resistant to magical suggestion. Theobroma breaks down that barrier, which helps when a student is learning, but using it on the Commander to gain control of his mind is the same as rape.” Irys pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders. “Even with Theobroma, a magician shouldn’t be able to reach the Commander’s mind from this distance, but Mogkan has. He has found a way to boost his power.”

Irys rubbed her arms with her hands, trying to warm up. “I’m guessing Mogkan’s visit to the castle was to lock himself into the Commander’s mind so he could lead him out here.”

“What can we do to break the lock?” I asked.

“Kill Mogkan. But it’ll be difficult. He’s very powerful.”

“Isn’t there another way?” I recalled my conversation in the woods with Valek about murder as a solution. My formula, he had said, and it still annoyed me. He’d probably never been in the lose-lose situation I was always finding myself in.

“Block Mogkan’s power supply. That might work. He’ll still have his magic, but it won’t be enhanced.”

“What would his extra power look like? How do we find it?”

“My guess would be that he’s either recruited a number of magicians to pool their power, or he’s devised a way to concentrate the power source without warping it.” She paused, considering. “Diamonds.”

“Diamonds?” A cold knot of anxiety churned in my stomach. There was so much I didn’t know about magic.

“Yes. Very expensive, but they will gather and store power like a hot coal holds heat. He might be using diamonds to enhance his magic. He would need a man-size circle of diamonds, and that’s not easily hidden. If we could find this circle I might be able to use it to block his power or, at least, redirect it long enough for you to awaken the Commander.”

“What if the source is a group of magicians? How would I recognize them?”

“Unfortunately, Ixia doesn’t have a uniform for magicians,” Irys said, her voice sharp with sarcasm. “Instead of searching for them, look for an empty room with a wagon-wheel design painted on the floor. To link magical power, each magician must be perfectly aligned along the edge of a circle.”

“I can search the manor, but I need help,” I said. “I need Valek.”

“You need a miracle,” Irys replied with a wry twist to her lips.

“Can you direct Valek here?”

“He’s already on his way. You two have forged a strong connection, although I don’t know if it’s of magical origin.” Irys pursed her lips. “I’d better go before Valek arrives. When and if you discover the source of Mogkan’s extra power, chant my name in your mind. I’ll hear your call because we, too, have created a bond. Our mental link grows stronger each time we communicate. I’ll try to help you with the Commander. But no promises. I’m after Mogkan.” She disappeared into the forest.

While I waited for Valek, I paced on the packed dirt and tried to think of a way to find Mogkan’s power source. Irys’s words about needing a miracle were, indeed, an understatement.

To distract myself, I focused on my surroundings. The tread of many feet had rubbed out the grass and trampled the earth until it was worn smooth and shiny. I remembered digging my heels into this same hard dirt the last time I was here, when Reyad dragged me to the manor house to punish me for disobeying him and winning the amulet. I had pressed that prize so tight against my skin it had left a mark. Then I had hidden it to keep it out of Reyad’s cruel hands.

Two years had passed since I had buried my amulet. Someone had probably discovered it by now. For an exercise, I tried using my new magical skill. Directing my awareness downward, I circled the clearing. I made many circuits and was growing bored, when suddenly, the soles of my feet felt hot. When I continued they cooled. I moved here and there until, once more, heat stabbed my feet.

Taking my grappling hook from my pack, I dug at the spot. My efforts revealed some fabric. I tossed my hook aside and clawed at the ground with my fingernails, uncovering my lost amulet.

It was dull and covered with dirt. The ribbon that held it was torn and stained. Pressing the flame-shaped amulet against my chest, I felt warmth emanating from it. I put it down to fill the hole, humming a tune. Cleaning the palm-size medal on my pants, I strung it onto the necklace chain with Valek’s butterfly.

“Not the best hiding place. Wouldn’t you agree?” Valek asked.

I jumped. How long had he been standing behind me?

“They’re searching for you. Why did you run?” he asked.

I briefed Valek on the Commander, Mogkan, the factory and the advisers, hoping he would draw the same conclusions I had.

“So Mogkan is using Criollo to take control of their minds, but where’s he getting the power?” Valek asked.

“I don’t know. We need to search the manor.”

“You mean, I need to?”

“No, we. I grew up there. I know every inch.” The first place I wanted to look was in Reyad’s laboratory wing. “When do we start?”

“Now. We have four hours till dawn. What are we looking for?”

When I explained that we were seeking either a circle of diamonds or a painted wheel, Valek’s thin eyebrows puckered as if he wanted to question me about how I had come by this information. He held his peace and headed back toward the barracks.

I hid outside while Valek changed into his black skintight sneak suit. He brought me a dark-colored shirt to wear over my bright red uniform shirt, and carried an unlit bull’s-eye lantern. My cloak would be too cumbersome for creeping through the halls, so I hid it in the bushes.

We found a back door near the servants’ quarters. Valek lit the lantern. Pushing the slide almost closed, he allowed only a thin ray of light to escape. Inside the manor, I took the lead.

Reyad’s suite was in the east wing on the ground floor, opposite the laboratory. The entire wing had been his, and there were a number of doors that he’d kept locked while I had been the resident laboratory rat.

Old horrors haunted me as we searched. My skin felt tight and hot. I recognized the faint acidic aroma of fear that mixed with the dust stirred by our footsteps. It was my smell. I had worn it like a perfume whenever Reyad dragged me to his test.

The thick air pressed down on me, filling my mouth with the taste of ashes and blood. I had bitten my hand without conscious thought. It was an old habit, a way to stifle my cries.

Exploring the laboratory room, the thin lantern’s beam spotlighted instruments hanging from the walls and piled on the tables. Each revelation sent a cold numbing pulse through my body, and I shrank away from the large shadows of equipment unrevealed, unwilling to even brush against them. The room resembled a torture chamber rather than a place for experiments.

Feeling like an animal pierced in the metal jaws of a trap, I wanted to scream and bolt from the room. Why had I brought Valek here? Brazell’s advisers were housed on the second floor. Mogkan’s diamond device, if there was such a thing, was probably hidden near his room, not down here.

Valek hadn’t said a word since lighting the lantern. In the hallway outside Reyad’s bedroom, a physical force prevented me from entering. My muscles trembled. An icy sweat soaked my uniform. I waited at the door while Valek went in. I could see the dark malevolent shape of Reyad’s sadistic “toy” chest lurking in a corner of the room. If I burned that chest to cinders, I wondered, would my nightmares cease?

“Not if I can help it,” Reyad’s ghost said, materializing beside me in the hallway.

I jerked back, hitting the wall. A yelp escaped my lips before I could shove my hand into my mouth.

“I thought you were gone for good,” I whispered.

“Never, Yelena. I will always be with you. My blood has soaked into your soul. You have no chance of cleansing me away.”

“I have no soul,” I said under my breath.

Reyad laughed. “Your soul is drenched black with the blood of your victims, my dear, that is why you can’t see it. When you die, that heavy blood-filled essence will sink to the bottom of the earth where you will burn in eternity for your crimes.”

“From the voice of experience,” I whispered with a rage that made my voice hiss.

Valek came out of Reyad’s room. With a face pale as bone, he stared at me with a horrified expression so long that I wondered if he had been struck dumb. Finally, closing the door, Valek walked past the ghost without seeing him, then stopped at the next locked room, pausing a moment with his head bowed to press a hand to his forehead.

“There’s someone who really needs to be haunted,” Reyad said, stabbing a ghostly white finger at Valek. “It’s a shame he doesn’t let his demons bother him, because I know a certain dead King that would love to plague him.” Reyad looked at me. “Only the weak invite their demons to live with them. Isn’t that right?”

I refused to answer Reyad as I followed Valek. We continued our search but it was obvious that, other than the laboratory, the wing had been abandoned. There were three doors left.

While Valek picked the two locks, Reyad chatted on. “My father will soon send you to me, Yelena. I’m looking forward to spending eternity with you.” He leered and wiggled his fingers at me.

But I was no longer interested in the ghost. The contents of the room before me riveted my attention. Inside, dozens of women and a few men flinched from the yellow beam of Valek’s lantern. Greasy hair obscured their dirt-streaked faces. Rags clung to their emaciated bodies. None of them spoke or cried out. To my increasing horror, I realized they were chained to the floor. In circles. One outer circle and two inner rings with lines painted between them.

When Valek and I stepped into the room, the foul stench of unwashed bodies and excrement wafted through the air. Gagging, I covered my mouth. Valek moved among them, asking questions. Who are you? Why are you here? His queries were met with silence. Their vacant eyes followed his passage. They remained where they were chained, staring.

I began to recognize some of the grubby faces. They had lived in the orphanage with me. They were the older girls and boys who had “graduated” and were supposed to be employed throughout the district. The sight of one girl, her ginger hair dull and matted, finally made me cry out in pain.

Carra’s soft brown eyes held no sign of intelligence as I stroked her shoulder and whispered her name. The free-spirited girl I had cared for in the orphanage had become a mindless, empty shell of a woman.

“My students,” Reyad said. His chest puffed out in pride as he floated in the middle of the room. “The ones who didn’t fail.”

“What now?” I asked Valek with a shaky voice.

“You’re arrested and thrown in the dungeon,” Mogkan answered from the entrance.

Valek and I spun in unison. Mogkan loomed in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. Valek charged him; fury blazed in his eyes. Mogkan stepped back into the hallway. I saw Valek stop just past the doorway and raise his hands in the air. Damn, I thought, racing to help him.

Mogkan stood like a coward behind eight guards. The tips of their swords were aimed mere inches from Valek’s chest.

30

AS SWORD POINTS PRICKED my back, I watched Valek, expecting him to spring into action during the whole miserable trip to Brazell’s holding cells. I waited for him to blur into motion as they stripped and searched us, enduring the humiliation of being prodded and poked by rough hands as they confiscated my backpack, switchblade and necklace. Losing my clothing didn’t upset me as much as losing Valek’s Butterfly and my amulet.

I prepared for a sudden jailbreak when we were led down into the prison, and was still waiting as we were shoved into adjoining cells.

I held my breath as the heavy metal lock clanged shut on our underground chambers. The soldiers tossed our clothing in through the bars. Then they left, abandoning us to blackness. I fumbled with my uniform, trying to button my shirt in the dark.

Here I was again. A nightmare turned real as we went through the guardroom, down one flight of steps, and into Brazell’s small dungeon, which only contained eight cells, four on each side of a short corridor. Valek and I were in the two cells closest and to the left of the steps. A familiarly loud, rancid stench permeated the prison. The thick, silty air so overpowered my senses that it took me a while to realize we were the only occupants.

Unable to bear the sudden quiet, I asked, “Valek?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you fight the guards? I would have helped you.”

“Eight men had drawn swords pointed at my chest. Any sudden movement and I would have been skewered. I’m flattered that you think I could win against those odds. Four armed opponents, maybe, but eight is definitely too many.”

I could hear the amusement in Valek’s voice.

“Then we pick the locks and make our escape?” My confidence was based on the fact that Valek was a master assassin and trained fighter, a man who wouldn’t stay confined for long.

“That would be ideal, provided we had something to pick them with,” Valek replied, dashing my hopes.

I searched my cell with my hands. Finding nothing but filthy straw, rat droppings and unrecognizable muck, I sank to the floor with my back against the one stone wall I shared with Valek.

After a long moment, Valek asked, “Was that your fate? If you hadn’t killed Reyad, were you slated to be chained to the floor, mindless?”

The image of those captives burned in my mind. My flesh crawled. For the first time, I was content to have failed Reyad’s tests.

As I thought more about them, I remembered a comment Irys had made regarding a magician’s ability to steal magic from others. Finally, the significance of the women and men sitting in circles hit me. Mogkan’s extra power came from those chained captives. Brazell, Reyad and Mogkan must have screened the children of the orphanage for magical potential. Then, while experimenting on them, Mogkan had wiped their minds clean, leaving them mindless vessels from which to draw more power.

“I think Brazell and Reyad were determined to reduce me to that mental state. But I endured.” I explained my theory about the captives to Valek.

“Tell me what happened to you,” Valek said, his voice tight.

I paused. Then my tale flowed from my lips, in bits and pieces at first, but the words soon gushed with the same speed as the tears streaking down my face. I didn’t spare him any details. I didn’t gloss over the unpleasant parts. Telling Valek everything about my two years as a laboratory rat, Reyad’s tortures and torments, the cruel games, the humiliations, the beatings, the longing to be good for Reyad, and, finally, the rape that led to murder, I purged myself of the black stain of Reyad. I felt light-headed with the release.

Valek remained silent throughout my disclosure, neither commenting nor questioning. Finally, with ice crystallizing in his voice he said, “Brazell and Mogkan will be destroyed.”

Promise or a threat, I couldn’t tell, but with all of Valek’s force behind it, it was more than idle talk.

As if they had heard their names, Brazell and Mogkan stepped through the main door of the dungeon. Four guards holding lanterns escorted them. They stopped at our cells.

“It’s good to see you back where you belong,” Brazell said to me. “My desire to feel your blood on my hands has tempted me, but Mogkan has kindly informed me of your fate, should you not receive your antidote.” Brazell paused, and smiled with pure satisfaction. “Seeing my son’s killer writhing in excruciating pain will be better justice. I’ll visit later to hear your screams. And if you beg me, I might put you out of your misery, just so I can breathe in the hot scent of your blood.”

Brazell’s gaze bored into Valek’s cell. “Disobeying a direct order is a capital offense. Commander Ambrose has signed your death warrant. Your hanging is scheduled for noon tomorrow.” Brazell cocked his head, appraising Valek like a thoroughbred. “I think I shall have your head stuffed and mounted. You’ll make an effective decoration in my office when I become Commander.”

Laughing, Brazell and Mogkan left the dungeon. The darkness that flowed in after them felt even heavier than before. It pressed against my chest, giving me a tight, panicky feeling around my ribs. I paced my cell. My emotions swung from sheer terror to overwhelming despondency. I kicked at the bars, threw straw into the air and pounded on the walls.

“Yelena,” Valek finally said, “settle down. Get some sleep; you’ll need your strength for tonight.”

“Oh yeah, everyone needs to be well rested to die,” I said, but regretted my harshness when I remembered that Valek, too, faced death. “I’ll try.”

I lay on the foul straw, knowing it was futile to try and rest. How could anyone sleep her last hours away?

Apparently, I could.

I woke with a cry. My nightmare about rats melded with reality as I felt a warm, furry mass resting on my legs. Leaping to my feet, I kicked the rodent. It crashed into the wall and skittered away.

“Nice nap?” Valek asked.

“I’ve had better. My sleeping companion snored.”

Valek grunted in amusement.

“How long was I out?”

“It’s hard to tell without the sun. I’m guessing it’s close to sunset.”

I had received my last dose of antidote yesterday morning. That gave me until tomorrow morning to live, but the symptoms of the poison would take hold sometime tonight.

“Valek, I have a confess…” My throat closed. My stomach muscles contracted with such severity that I felt as if someone were trying to rip them from my body.

“What’s the matter?”

“Stomach cramp from hell,” I said, still gasping even though the pain had subsided. “Is this the start?”

“Yes. They begin slowly, but soon the convulsions will be continuous.”

Another wave of agony hit, and I crumpled to the floor. When it passed, I crawled to my straw bed, waiting for the next assault. Unable to endure the anticipation in silence, I said, “Valek, talk to me. Tell me something to distract me.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t care. Anything.”

“Here’s something you can take some comfort from—there’s no poison called Butterfly’s Dust.”

“What?” I wanted to scream at him, but a doubling-over, vomit-inducing convulsion hit, causing my abdominal muscles to feel as if they were being shredded with a knife.

When I was sensible again, Valek explained, “You’re going to want to die, wish you were already dead, but in the end you’ll be quite alive.”

“Why tell me now?”

“The mind controls the body. If you believed that you were going to die, then you might have died from that conviction alone.”

“Why wait until now to tell me?” I demanded, furious. He could have relieved my anguish.

“A tactical decision.”

I bit back a nasty reply. I tried to see his logic; to put myself in his place. My training sessions with Ari and Janco had included strategy and tactics. Janco had compared sparring to a card game. “Keep your best moves close to your chest and only use them when you’ve nothing left,” he had said.

An opportunity to escape might have presented itself during the day. In that case Valek wouldn’t have to show his last card and tell me about the poison.

“What about the cramps?” I asked just as another one seized my body. I rolled into a tight ball hoping to relieve some of the pain, but to no avail.

“Withdrawal symptoms.”

“From what?”

“Your so-called antidote,” Valek said. “It’s an interesting concoction. I use it to make someone sick. As the potion wears off, it produces stomach cramps worthy of a day in bed. It’s perfect for putting someone temporarily out of commission without killing him. If you continue to drink it, then the symptoms are forestalled until you stop.”

Of all the books I had studied, I didn’t recall reading about a tonic like that. “What’s the name?”

“White Fright.”

The knowledge that I wasn’t going to die erased the frightened panic and helped me to endure the pain. I viewed each contraction as a step that must be taken in order for me to be free of the substance.

“What about Butterfly’s Dust?” I asked.

“Doesn’t exist. I made it up. It sounded good. I needed some threat to keep the food tasters from running away without using guards or locked doors.”

An unwelcome thought popped into my head. “Does the Commander know it’s a ruse?” If he did, Mogkan would also know.

“No. He believes you’ve been poisoned.”

During the night, it was hard for me to remember that I had not been poisoned. Torturous cramps refused to release me. I crawled around the cell, retching and screaming.

I was vaguely aware, at one point, of Brazell and Mogkan gloating over me. I didn’t care that they watched. I didn’t care that they laughed. All I cared about was finding a position that would alleviate the pain.

Finally, I fell into an exhausted sleep.

I woke lying on the muck-covered floor of the cell. My right arm stretched through the bars. I marveled more over the fact that I clutched Valek’s hand than the fact that I was alive.

“Yelena, are you all right?” The concern in Valek’s voice was evident.

“I think so,” I replied with a rasp. My throat burned with thirst.

A clank rang out as someone unlocked the prison door.

“Play dead,” Valek whispered, releasing my hand. “Try to get them close to my cell,” he instructed as two guards came into the dungeon. I yanked my Valek-warmed hand into the cell, and poked my ice-cold left hand out just as the men descended the stairs.

“Damn! The stench down here’s worse than the latrine after a brew party,” said the guard holding the lantern.

“You think she’s dead?” the second guard asked.

With my face to the wall, I closed my eyes and held my breath as the yellow light swept my body.

The guard touched my hand. “Cold as snow-cat piss. Let’s drag her out before she starts to rot. You think it smells bad now…” The snap of the lock was followed by a squeak of metal as the cell door opened.

I concentrated on being a dead weight while the guard dragged me out by my feet. When the light moved away from me, I risked a peek. The guard with the lantern walked ahead to light the way, leaving my upper body in darkness. As we passed Valek’s cell, I seized the bars with both hands.

“Ugh. Hold up, she’s stuck.”

“On what?” the lantern guard asked.

“I don’t know. Come back here with that bloody light.”

I released my grip, hooking my arm inside the cell.

“Back off,” the lantern guard warned Valek.

His meaty hand tugged at my elbow. Then he grunted softly. I opened my eyes in time to see the lantern’s light extinguish as it toppled to the ground.

“What the hell?” the other man exclaimed. He was still holding my feet. He backed away from Valek’s bars.

I bent my legs, pulling my body close to his boots. He yelped with surprise when I grabbed his ankles. He tripped and fell back.

The sickening crunch of bone striking stone wasn’t what I expected. His body went limp. I stood on shaky legs.

Hearing a thud and the jingle of keys, I turned back in time to see Valek lighting the lantern. The other guard was propped against the bars, his head cocked at an unnatural angle.

In the weak glow, I gazed at the prone form at my feet. The soldier’s head had struck the edge of the bottom step. A black liquid began to pool around my boots. I had just killed another man. I began to tremble. A fourth man had died because of me. Had the robbing of my soul reduced me to a heartless killer? Did Valek feel any remorse or guilt when he took a life? I watched him through a veil of blood.

Efficient as always, Valek stripped the dead guards of their weapons.

“Wait here,” he instructed. Unlocking the main door of the prison, he sprang through the entrance to the guardroom.

Shouts, grunts and the sound of flesh striking flesh reached my ears as I waited on the stairway. No remorse, no guilt, Valek did what he had to for his side to win.

When Valek motioned me to join him, I saw that blood had splattered on his face, chest and arms. Three guards, either unconscious or dead, were strewn about the room.

My backpack sat on a table, its contents scattered about. I stuffed everything back in while Valek tried to open the remaining locked door between freedom and us. Although meager, I wanted my possessions, including my Butterfly and amulet, back. Once I wrapped the chain around my neck, I felt strangely optimistic.

“Damn,” Valek said.

“What?”

“The Captain has the only key to this door. He will open it when it’s time to change the guards.”

“Try these.” I handed Valek my picks.

He grinned.

While he worked on the lock, I found a pitcher of water and a wash barrel. The fear of being caught couldn’t override the desire to rinse off my face and hands. But that was not enough. The need to rid myself of the stench of vomit and blood overpowered me. Soon, I was dumping buckets of water over my head until I was soaked through. I drained half the water pitcher before I thought to offer some to Valek. He stopped to drink, then continued to pick the lock.

Finally, it popped open. Valek peered out into the hallway. “Perfect. No guards.” He pulled the door wide. “Let’s go.”

Taking my hand and a lantern, Valek turned away from our only escape, and led me back down into the prison, pausing to leave the door to the cells wide open as well.

“Are you insane?” I whispered as he dragged me toward the last cell. “Freedom’s that way.” I pointed.

He ignored me as he unlocked the door. “Trust me. This is the perfect hiding spot. The mess we left will soon be discovered, the open doors proof we’ve fled.” Valek pushed me ahead of him into the cell. “Search parties will be sent out. When all the soldiers have left the manor, we’ll make our move. Until then, we lay low.”

Valek made a makeshift bed of straw in the far corner of the cell. After extinguishing and hiding the lantern, he yanked me down. I curled on my side with my back to him, shivering in my wet clothes. Valek pulled some straw on top of us and wrapped an arm around me. He drew me close. I stiffened at the contact, but his body heat warmed me, and I soon relaxed into his grip.

At first, every tiny noise made my heart race. But I shouldn’t have worried; the commotion that ensued when our escape was discovered was deafening.

Angry and accusing voices shouted. Search parties were organized and dispatched. It was agreed that we had an hour head start, but Brazell and Mogkan argued on which direction we had taken.

“Valek’s probably retreating west to well-known territory,” Brazell stated with authority.

“South is the logical choice,” Mogkan insisted. “We have the Commander; there’s nothing they can do. They’re running for their lives, not toward some strategic position. I’ll take a horse and scan the forest with my magic.”

Valek harrumphed in my ear, and whispered, “They actually think I would abandon the Commander. They have no concept of loyalty.”

When the prison had been quiet and empty for a few hours, I grew bored and anxious to be gone. The door to the cells had remained wide open, allowing a faint light to illuminate our surroundings.

“Can we go now?” I asked.

“Not yet. I believe it’s still daylight. We’ll wait until dark.”

To help pass the time, I asked Valek how he had become involved with the Commander. I thought it an unintrusive question, but he grew so quiet that I regretted asking it.

After a long pause, he spoke. “My family lived in Icefaren Province before it was renamed MD–1. A particularly harsh winter collapsed the building that housed my father’s leather business, ruining all of his equipment. He needed to replace his equipment to stay in business, but the soldiers who came to our house to collect the tax money wouldn’t listen to reason.” Valek’s arm tightened around me.

A minute stretched longer before he continued. “I was just a skinny little kid at the time, but I had three older brothers. They were about Ari’s size and had his strength. When my father told the soldiers that if he paid the full tax amount he wouldn’t have enough money left to feed his family—” Valek paused for several heartbeats “—they killed my brothers. They laughed and said, ‘Problem solved. Now you have three less mouths to feed.’” The muscles on Valek’s arm trembled with tension.

“Naturally, I wanted revenge, but not on the soldiers. They were only messengers. I wanted the King. The man who had allowed his soldiers to murder my brothers in his name. So I learned how to fight, and I studied the assassin’s art until I was unbeatable. I traveled around, using my new skills to earn money. The royal upper class was so corrupt they paid me to kill each other.

“Then I was commissioned to kill a young man named Ambrose, whose speeches called for rebellion and made the royals nervous. He’d become popular, gathering large crowds. People started to resist the King’s doctrines. Then Ambrose disappeared, hiding his growing army and employing covert operations against the monarchy.

“My payment to find and kill Ambrose was significant. I ambushed him, expecting to have my knife in his heart before he could draw breath to cry out. But he blocked the blow, and I found myself fighting for my life, and losing.

“Instead of killing me, though, Ambrose carved a C on my chest with my own knife. The same weapon, by the way, that I later used to kill the King. Then Ambrose declared himself my Commander, and announced that I now worked for him and no one else. I agreed, and I promised him that if he got me close enough to kill the King, I would be loyal to him forever.

“My first assignment was to kill the person who had paid me to assassinate Ambrose. Throughout these years, I’ve watched him achieve his goals with a single-minded determination and without excess violence and pain. He hasn’t been corrupted by power or greed. He’s consistent and loyal to his people. And there’s been no one in this world that I care for more. Until now.”

I held my breath. It had been a simple, innocent question. I hadn’t expected such an intimate response.

“Yelena, you’ve driven me crazy. You’ve caused me considerable trouble and I’ve contemplated ending your life twice since I’ve known you.” Valek’s warm breath in my ear sent a shiver down my spine.

“But you’ve slipped under my skin, invaded my blood and seized my heart.”

“That sounds more like a poison than a person,” was all I could say. His confession had both shocked and thrilled me.

“Exactly,” Valek replied. “You have poisoned me.” He rolled me over to face him. Before I could make another sound, he kissed me.

Long suppressed desire flared to life as I wrapped my arms around his neck, returning his kiss with equal passion.

My response was a delightful surprise. I had feared, after Reyad’s abuse, my body would clench tight in horror and revulsion. But the intertwining of our bodies linked our minds and spirits together.

The distant sound of music vibrated in the air. Pulsing, the magical harmony soon rose to a crescendo and encompassed us like a warm blanket. The prison cell and filthy straw dropped away from our awareness. Whiteness draped in snowy silk surrounded us. On this plane we were equals, partners. Our souls bonded. His pleasure was my ecstasy. My blood pumped in his heart.

Utter bliss came in short snatches, although, Valek and I were happy to try again. We had merged, our minds had become one. I drew in his essence, feasting on the feel of his body in mine, exhilarating in the caress of his skin against mine. He filled the hollow emptiness inside my heart with joy and light. Even though we lay in the grubby straw and faced an uncertain future, a deep hum of contentment vibrated throughout my body.

31

REALITY AND THE RANK ODOR of a decomposing animal intruded. Darkness had descended.

“Let’s go,” Valek said, pulling me to my feet.

“Where?” I asked, adjusting my uniform.

“The Commander’s room, so we can take him back to the castle with us.” Valek brushed the straw from his hair and clothes.

“Won’t work.”

“Why not?” Valek demanded.

“As soon as you touch him, Mogkan will know.” I explained about Mogkan’s link with the Commander and how he had established that connection using Criollo.

“How do we break the bond?” Valek asked.

It was time to tell him about my magic. I felt light-headed, as if I stood on the edge of the world. Taking a deep breath, I related the encounters and conversations I’d had with Irys, and how she might be able to help us.

Valek stood still for a full minute, while my heart thumped madly in my chest.

“Do you trust her?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

My head spun. So much had happened and we still needed to stop a powerful magician. Death was a real possibility. I wanted Valek to know how I felt.

“I love you.”

Valek wrapped me in his arms. “My love has been yours since the fire festival. If those goons had killed you, I knew then that I would never be the same. I didn’t want or expect this. But I couldn’t resist you.”

I molded my body to him, wanting to share his skin.

He took my hand. “Let’s go.”

We raided the guardroom for uniforms before slipping into the hallway. Wearing Brazell’s colors of black and green, we hoped to avoid discovery as we stole through the manor.

Valek needed his bag of tricks, so we headed toward the barracks. While I retrieved my cloak, Valek slid inside the empty wooden building. The soldiers had gone to search for us.

I paced in the shadows of the building, chanting Irys’s name in my mind. We needed a plan of attack. We had to move tonight.

Shouts and curses emanated from the barracks. Running inside, I found Ari and Janco with their swords drawn and pointed at Valek.

“Stop,” I said.

Spotting me, Ari and Janco sheathed their weapons, smiling.

“We thought Valek had escaped without you,” Ari said, giving me a bear hug.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with a search party?” Valek asked as he pulled his black bag from under a bunk. He had changed into an ebony coverall with numerous pockets.

“We’re too sick,” Janco said, his best smirk in place.

“What?” I asked.

“The charges against you were obviously fabricated, so we refused to take part in the hunt,” Janco said.

“That’s insubordination.” Valek extracted a long knife and some darts from his bag.

“That was the point. What’s a fellow have to do around here in order to get arrested and thrown in the dungeon?” Janco asked.

I stared at Janco in amazement. They had been willing to risk a court martial in order to help me. He had meant what he had inscribed on my switchblade.

“Which direction did the search parties go?” Valek asked. He placed weapons in various pockets and strapped his sword and knife onto his belt.

“Mainly south and east, although a few small groups were sent west and north,” Ari replied.

“Dogs?”

“Yes.”

“And the manor?”

“Minimal coverage.”

“Good. You’re with us,” Valek ordered them both.

They snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.”

“Prep for covert ops, but keep the swords. You’re going to need them.” Valek finished dressing as Ari and Janco got ready.

“Wait,” I said. “I don’t want them getting into trouble.” My heart started to skitter around in my chest and a nauseous wave threatened to send bile up my throat as fear of what we were planning to do overcame me.

Valek squeezed my shoulder. “We need their help.”

“You’re going to need more than that.” Irys’s voice came out of the darkness. Three men simultaneously drew their swords. When she stepped into the weak lantern light, Valek relaxed, but Ari and Janco brandished their weapons.

“At ease,” Valek ordered.

Seeing their reluctance, I said, “She’s a friend. She’s here to help.” I looked at her. “We discovered Mogkan’s extra power source.”

“What is it?”

I told her about the mindless captives and how they had been chained in circles, and then explained my theory that Mogkan had wiped their minds to seize their power. Horror and revulsion touched her face. Despite her rough exterior, her concern went deep. She managed to regain her no-nonsense frown, but Ari and Janco looked a little green, as if they were going to be sick.

“What’s this all about?” Ari asked.

“I’ll explain it later. Right now—” I stopped short. A complete plan of attack snapped into my mind, but it included Ari and Janco. I had been hoping to keep them safe, but Valek was right. We needed their help.

“I want you to protect Irys with everything you have. It’s very important,” I told my friends.

“Yes, sir,” Ari and Janco said together.

Stunned, I stared at them. They had addressed me as sir, meaning they would follow my orders, even if it led to their death.

Valek’s eyes drilled into mine. “You have a strategy?”

“Yes.”

“Tell us.”

Why, I thought as Valek and I crept through the silent empty halls of the manor, had I opened my mouth? My plan. What did I know? Valek, Ari and Janco had years of experience doing this nerve-racking, stomach-turning work, but everyone risked their necks following my plan.

In the dark corridor, I swallowed my fear and reviewed the strategy. At the Commander’s door, we waited to give the others time to move into position. My short breaths seemed to echo off the walls, and I felt as if I was either going to scream or pass out.

After a few moments, Valek picked the lock and we slipped inside. He secured the door. Lighting a lantern, he moved toward the oversize four-poster bed. The Commander was stretched out on top of the bedding, fully clothed. His vacant eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. He made no acknowledgment of our presence.

I sat beside him and took his hand in mine. Following Irys’s brief instructions, I imagined my brick wall, then expanded it until I had built a dome of brick that encompassed us both. Valek pressed against the wall next to the door, waiting for Mogkan. His expression had hardened into his battle face. He was stone cold on the exterior, but I knew that a lethal, molten fury resided within.

It wasn’t long before a key turned in the lock. Silence. Then the door burst open. Four armed guards rushed in. Valek had one down before the man could react. The ringing of swords filled the room.

Mogkan slinked into the chamber after his men had Valek fully engaged. Avoiding the fighting, he moved toward me. A condescending smile touched his lips.

“A brick igloo. How nice. Come on, Yelena, give me some credit. A stone fortress or a steel wall would have been more of a challenge.”

I felt a solid blow strike my mental defenses. Brick crumbled. Patching holes as he hammered on my shield, I prayed with desperation that Ari, Janco and Irys had made it to the room where Mogkan kept the prisoners chained. Irys had explained that she needed to be there with them in order to block Mogkan’s extra power. Even if she succeeded, I would still have to deal with Mogkan’s own magic.

Halting his attack for a second, Mogkan jerked his head to the side, staring off into the distance. “Nice trick,” he said. “Friends of yours? They’re in Reyad’s hallway, but unless they can fight their way through ten men, they won’t make it to my children.”

My heart sank. Mogkan resumed his onslaught with renewed determination. One guard out of four remained in battle with Valek. Hurry, I thought. My defenses weakened with each blow. I threw every ounce of strength into my wall, but it collapsed into a cloud of dust.

Mogkan’s power gripped me like a giant’s fist around my rib cage. I yelped in pain and dropped the Commander’s hand. I stood on weak legs beside the bed just as Valek yanked his sword from the last guard’s dead body.

“Stop or she dies,” Mogkan ordered.

Valek froze. Three more guards hustled into the room, Brazell on their heels. They surrounded Valek. Taking his sword, they forced him to his knees with his hands on his head.

“Go ahead, General. Kill her,” Mogkan said, stepping back to let Brazell pass. “I should have let you slit her throat the first day she arrived.”

“Why listen to Mogkan?” I asked Brazell. “He’s not to be trusted.” Pain crawled along my spine as Mogkan turned his burning eyes upon me.

“What do you mean?” Brazell demanded. He gripped his sword as he glanced from me to Mogkan.

Mogkan laughed. “She’s only trying to delay the inevitable.”

“Like when you tried to delay the Sitian treaty negotiations by poisoning the cognac? Or were you aiming to stop the delegation altogether?” I asked him.

Mogkan’s shock revealed his guilt. Although surprise touched Valek’s face, he remained silent. His body tensed, ready to spring into action.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Brazell said.

“Mogkan wants to avoid contact with the southerners. They would know about—” My throat closed. I clawed at my neck, unable to breathe.

Brazell turned on Mogkan. His square face creased with anger. “What have you been up to?”

“We don’t need a treaty with Sitia. We were getting our supplies without any problems. But you wouldn’t listen to me. You had to be greedy. After establishing a trade treaty it would only be a matter of time before we’d have southerners crossing the border, sniffing around, finding us.” Mogkan showed no fear of Brazell, only anger that he had to explain his actions. “Now, do you want to kill her or should I?”

Spots spun in my eyes as my vision blurred. Before Brazell could answer, Mogkan staggered. His hold on me slipped slightly, releasing my airway. I gasped for air.

“My children!” Mogkan roared. “Even without them, I still have more power than you!”

Like a fish on a hook, I was yanked off my feet and hurled against the wall. My head banged on the stone. Pinned in midair, Mogkan’s power pelted me. Each blow felt like a boulder crashing into me. This is it, I thought. Reyad was right; becoming the food taster had just delayed the inevitable.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Valek fighting his guards as he tried to reach Mogkan. Too late for me. With a final surge of strength, I mentally reached out. I hit an impenetrable barrier as I felt my consciousness drain. Blackness filled my world.

Then Irys’s voice was there in my mind, soothing. “Here,” she said, “let me help you.” Pure power flowed into me. I reconstructed my mental shield and deflected Mogkan’s onslaught, pushing him back. He crashed into the opposite wall with a satisfying thud.

Confusion reigned in the Commander’s chambers. Inexperienced with magic as I was, I couldn’t restrain Mogkan. He bolted from the room. With a knife in his hand, Valek fought three guards with swords. As I rushed to help Valek, Brazell grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him.

He raised his sword. Murder blazed in his eyes. I jumped back to avoid the first swing of his sword and bumped against the Commander’s bed. I leaped onto the bed to avoid Brazell’s next swing. I glanced down. The Commander’s gaze was still fixed on the ceiling. Brazell’s third swing severed one of the bedposts.

As I dived from the end of the bed to avoid another blow, I seized the post from the floor.

Now I was armed. The post wasn’t balanced properly for a bow, but it was thick. Better than nothing.

Brazell was a powerful opponent. Each swing of his sword hacked chunks out of my weapon.

At first, he scoffed at my attempts to fight him. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re a skinny nothing. I’ll gut you in two moves.”

When I found my mental zone of power, he stopped wasting his breath. Even sensing his next attack, I still scrambled to stay one step ahead of him. My wooden post was no match for his sword.

Reyad’s ghost materialized in the room. He cheered his father on, trying to distract me. His tactics worked. My back hit the wall. Brazell’s sword split my post in half.

“You’re dead.” With gleeful satisfaction, Brazell pulled his sword back to slash at my neck. But I still held a part of the wood. As his sword swung close, I deflected the weapon downward with my broken post. The tip cut across my waist. The sound of ripping fabric accompanied a line of fire across my stomach. Blood soaked the ripped ends of my uniform shirt.

Then Brazell made his first error. Thinking I was finished, he relaxed his guard. But I was still on my feet. I raised my weapon. With desperate strength, I struck him across the temple. We crumpled to the floor together.

I gazed at the ceiling, trying to regain my breath. Valek hovered over me. I shooed him away. “Find Mogkan.” He disappeared from my view.

Once strength returned to my limbs, I examined my wound. Running a finger along the gash, I thought all I needed was some of Rand’s glue.

Reyad’s ghost floated over me, sneering. I couldn’t bear lying on the ground with him in the room. Cursing and bleeding, I stood.

“You.” I stabbed a bloody finger at him. “Go away.”

“Make me,” he challenged.

How could I fight a ghost? I moved into a defensive stance. He scoffed. No, not a physical fight, a mental one.

I thought about what I had accomplished in the year and a half since I had slit Reyad’s throat. Overcoming my fears to make friends. Confronting my enemies. Finding love. How I felt about myself. Who I was. I looked into the gilded floor-length mirror of the Commander’s room. My hair was wild. My shirt soaked with blood. My face streaked with dirt. Almost the same reflection when I first became the food taster. But this time there was something different. The shadows of doubt were gone.

I peered deeper and found my soul. A little tattered and with some holes, but there all the same. It had always been there, I realized with a shock. If Reyad and Mogkan had truly driven it from me, I would be chained to a floor right now and not standing over Brazell’s unconscious form.

I was in control. This new person in the mirror was free. Free of all poisons. I glanced at Brazell. He was still breathing, but I was in charge of him and of myself. In command. No longer a victim. No longer the rat caught in the metal jaws of a trap.

“Be gone,” I ordered Reyad’s ghost. His shocked expression gave me great joy as he vanished.

But joy was like a Butterfly alighting on a hand; a brief rest before flying away.

“Janco’s hurt.” Irys’s alarmed voice resounded in my skull. “We need a medic. Come now.”

Using manacles from a dead guard’s belt, I handcuffed Brazell to the heavy bed. Then I bolted from the room. I raced through the corridors. He can’t die, I thought. Not Janco. I wouldn’t be able to bear his death. Horrible scenarios played in my mind. I was so preoccupied that I rushed right toward Valek and Mogkan without even recognizing them.

They dueled with swords. The reason the scene had taken a while to clarify in my mind was because Mogkan had the upper hand. Valek’s pale face was haggard. He swung his sword as if it was a dead weight. His natural grace had fled, and what remained were sporadic, jerky movements. Mogkan, on the other hand, was quick and competent, technically accurate, but lacking style.

My disbelief and concern grew as I watched the match. What was wrong with Valek? Was it Mogkan’s magic? No, Valek was immune to it, I thought. Then realization dawned. Valek had said being close to a magician felt like wading in thick syrup. And Valek had fought seven guards in the Commander’s room after spending the last two days in the dungeon without food or sleep. Exhaustion had finally caught up to him.

Mogkan’s grin widened when he spotted me hovering nearby. He executed a lightning-quick feint, and then lunged. Valek’s sword clattered to the floor as a crimson slash snaked up his arm.

“What an incredible day!” Mogkan exclaimed. “I get to kill the famous Valek and the infamous Yelena at the same time.”

I triggered my switchblade. Mogkan laughed. He sent me a magical command to drop my weapon.

Just as my hand released the blade, I heard Irys’s voice in my head. “Yelena, what’s wrong? Did you find the medic?”

“I need help!” I cried in my mind. Power swelled inside me, pushing to break free. I aimed a finger of power toward Mogkan. His sword dropped from his hand. Terror gripped his face as the magic swaddled him like a baby, then tightened like a noose. He was paralyzed, rooted to the floor.

“You rat-spawned daughter of a demon!” Mogkan cursed. “You’re a blight on this earth. An incarnation of hell. You’re just like the rest of them. The Zaltana bloodline should be burned out, erased, exterminated…”

Mogkan raged on, but I ceased to listen. Valek picked up my switchblade. Mogkan’s curses grew louder and more frantic as Valek approached him. A blur of movement, a shriek of pain, then Mogkan was finally silent. His body sank into a heap on the ground.

Valek handed me the bloody knife. With an exhausted bow, he said, “My love, for you.”

32

I GASPED, REMEMBERING. “Janco!” Grabbing Valek’s arm, I dragged him with me, explaining between huffs of breath. Still wearing Brazell’s colors, although torn and bloodstained, we roused the medic, who, with peevish annoyance, fussed about protocol and proper authority until Valek drew his knife.

My stomach heaved when we entered Reyad’s wing. The hallway leading to the captives’ room was gruesome. Soldiers littered the floor, pieces of arms and legs were scattered about as if someone had hacked their way through them. The walls were splattered with blood and pools of scarlet dotted the floor.

The medic wanted to stop at the first man, but Valek yanked him to his feet. Stepping carefully around the bodies, we reached the doorway. Just inside, I saw Janco lying on his side with his head in Ari’s lap. He was unconscious, which was a good thing since a sword had skewered his stomach, the bloody tip poking from his back. Ari’s gore-splashed face held a grim expression. A crimson-coated ax, the weapon responsible for the carnage in the hallway, rested next to him. Irys sat cross-legged in the center of the circle of emaciated people. Her brow glistened with sweat. Her expression was distant. The chained women and men viewed the scene with dispassionate eyes.

The trip to the infirmary was a chaotic nightmare. Everything blurred together like a whirlwind until I found myself lying in a bed next to Janco, holding his hand. The medic did his best, but if the sword had pierced any vital organs or if there was internal bleeding, Janco wouldn’t survive. Twice during the night Ari and I despaired that we would lose him.

My own wound had been cleaned and sealed with Rand’s glue, but I hardly noticed or cared about the throbbing pain. I aimed all my energy and strength toward Janco, willing him to live.

Late the next day, I woke from a light doze.

“Sleeping on the job?” Janco whispered with a weak smile on his ashen face.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Surely if he was strong enough to insult me, then he was on his way to recovery.

Unfortunately, Irys couldn’t say the same about the Commander. Four days after Mogkan’s death, he still hadn’t regained his spirit. His advisers had rebounded from their brief ensorcellment, and they had commandeered Brazell’s manor while waiting for the Commander to return. They assumed temporary control of the Military District. Messengers were sent north to General Tesso of MD–4 and west to General Hazal of MD–6, requesting their immediate presence. The Generals would have the authority to determine what the next step would be in case the Commander failed to revive.

Just as confusing was the fact that none of Brazell, Mogkan and Reyad’s victims woke to Irys’s probing. She had tried to enter their minds, to break through to where their self-awareness was hiding. Irys reported that their minds were like abandoned houses, fully furnished, with embers still smoking in the fireplace, but no one home.

Irys and I resigned ourselves to the knowledge that the victims would live out their days unaware of their new comfortable surroundings in Brazell’s guest wing. I mourned over the loss of my friend Carra. Irys had sought out the rooms used by the orphans, and reported that May was still there, alive and well. I planned to visit with May as soon as Janco regained some of his strength.

“It’s obvious that the children in Brazell’s orphanage were kidnapped from Sitia,” Irys explained, visiting me in the infirmary at Janco’s bedside.

“Mogkan’s ring of child thieves spaced their abductions far enough apart to avoid detection. Magic is usually stronger in women, and that explains why there are more girls. The kidnappers targeted bloodlines where magic was present, although they took a gamble with children that young. There’s no way to be sure the power will develop. Mogkan and Brazell must have planned this for a long time.” Irys raked her fingers through her long brown hair. “Finding your family shouldn’t be too difficult.”

I blinked at her in shock. “You’re joking. Right?”

“Why would I joke?” She was unaware of the emotional tailspin she’d caused me.

She was right, joking wasn’t her style, so I thought for a moment. “Before he died, Mogkan said something about the Zaltana bloodline.”

“Zaltana!” Wiping away her usual serious expression, Irys laughed. It was like the sun coming out after weeks of rain. “I think they did lose a girl. My goodness, you’re in for a real surprise if you’re part of the Zaltana clan. That would explain why you alone didn’t cave in under Mogkan’s spell.”

Questions hovered on my lips. I wanted to know more about this family, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. There was the possibility that I wasn’t a Zaltana. I guess I would find out when I reached Sitia. Irys wanted to start my magical training right away.

Uneasiness hovered in my chest whenever I thought of leaving Ixia. I changed the subject. “How’s the Commander?”

Irys confessed her frustration. “He’s different from the children. There’s nothing in their minds, but he’s retreated to a white place. If I can only find where he is, then I might be able to bring him back.”

I considered this for a while, and thought back to a time in the war room when I had fallen asleep. “May I try?”

“Why not?”

I made sure Janco was comfortable and had everything he desired. Irys accompanied me to the Commander’s room. The bodies had been removed and someone had attempted to clean up. I perched on the edge of the Commander’s bed and took his cold hand in mine. Following Irys’s instructions, I closed my eyes, sending my mental awareness toward him.

My feet crunched on ice. A cold wind stabbed my face and filled my lungs with tiny daggers. Dazzling white surrounded me. Diamond dust or snowflakes, it was hard to tell. I walked for a while and was immediately confused by the sparkling blizzard. Stumbling through the storm, I fought to remain calm and to remind myself that I was not lost. Whenever I took a step forward, the icy wind drove me back.

I was about to admit defeat, when I remembered why I had thought I could find the Commander. Focusing on the scene of a young woman exalting over a slain snow cat caused the wind to stop and the blizzard to clear. I stood next to Ambrose.

She was dressed in heavy white hunting furs that resembled the skin of the cat.

“Come back,” I said.

“I can’t,” she said, pointing into the distance.

Thin black bars surrounded us on all sides. A birdcage was my first impression, but upon closer scrutiny I could see that the bars were soldiers armed with swords.

“Every time I tried to leave, they pushed me back.” Fury flamed in her face before dying into weary.

“But you’re the Commander.”

“Not here. Here I am just Ambrosia trapped inside my mistake of a body. The soldiers know about my curse.”

I searched my mind for a reply. The guards didn’t belong to Mogkan, they belonged to her. My eyes were drawn to the snow cat’s carcass. “How did you kill the cat?”

Her face came alive as she recounted how she had bathed in snow-cat scent and spent weeks cloaked in snow-cat furs, pretending to be one of the animals until they allowed her to be part of their pack. In the end it was only a matter of time and the perfect opportunity to make the kill.

“Proof that I was really a man. That I had won the right to be a man.”

“Then perhaps you need to wear your prize,” I suggested. “Skins will not help you against that lot.” I jerked my head at the ring of guards.

Comprehension widened the woman’s golden eyes. She gazed at the slain cat, then morphed into the Commander. Her shoulder-length hair shortened into his buzz cut, fine lines of age growing on her face as he emerged. The white furs dropped to the ground as his wrinkle-free uniform materialized. He stepped away from the skins, kicking them dismissively.

“You shouldn’t do that,” I said. “She’s a part of you. You might need her again.”

“And do I need you, Yelena? Can I trust you to keep my mutation a secret?” the Commander asked with a fierce intensity.

“I came here to bring you back. Isn’t that answer enough?”

“Valek swore me a blood oath of loyalty when I carved my initial on his chest. Would you do the same?”

“Does Valek know about Ambrosia?” I asked.

“No. You haven’t answered my question.”

I showed the Commander Valek’s butterfly. “I wear this against my chest. I’ve pledged my loyalty to Valek, who is faithful to you.”

The Commander reached for the Butterfly. I stood still as he removed it from my necklace. He took a knife from the skins and sliced it across his right palm. Holding the pendant in his bloody hand, he extended the knife toward me. I held out my right hand, wincing as the knife bit into it. Our blood mixed as I shook his hand with the Butterfly wedged between our palms. When he released his grip, Valek’s gift was in my hand. I returned it to its proper place over my heart.

“How do we get back?” he asked.

“You’re the Commander.”

His eyes rested on the dead cat. Looking around at the ring of soldiers, he drew his sword. “We fight,” he said.

I pulled the spear from the cat’s side, and wiped the blood on the snow. Feeling the weight of the weapon in my grip, I swung it around in a few practice moves. It was lighter than a bow, and a bit off balance by the metal tip. But it would work.

We charged the men. The circle of guards tightened immediately around us. Back to back, the Commander and I fought.

The men were skilled, but the Commander was a master swordsman. He had bested Valek and killed a snow cat. It was like fighting with five more defenders by my side.

When I sunk the spear’s tip into one guard’s heart, he exploded into a shower of snow crystals that floated away with the wind.

Time slowed as I hacked at one man after another, until finally time snapped to the present. I whirled around searching for an opponent only to discover that we had dispatched all the men. Snow swirled around us.

“Nice work,” the Commander said. “You helped me rediscover my true self, killing off my demons.” He took my hand and pressed it to his lips.

The wintry scene melted, and I found myself back on the bed, looking into the Commander’s powerful eyes.

That night, Valek and I briefed the Commander on all that had happened since the Generals’ brandy meeting. Valek had Brazell interrogated, and discovered that Brazell and Mogkan had been planning a coup for the past ten years.

“Brazell told me that Mogkan showed up at his manor with a group of children,” Valek said. “He was looking for a place to hide and he struck a deal with Brazell to help Brazell become the next Commander. Once Mogkan achieved enough power to reach your mind from MD–5, they started feeding you Criollo, Sir.”

“What about the factory?” the Commander asked.

“We have halted production,” Valek said.

“Good. Salvage what equipment you can, then burn the factory and any Criollo to the ground.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Anything else?”

“One more interesting item. Brazell said that once he and Mogkan had control of Ixia, they planned to take over Sitia.”

The next day the Commander held court with Valek standing at his right side. Brazell was brought before him to face charges. As expected, Brazell was stripped of his rank and sentenced to spend the rest of his life in the Commander’s dungeon.

Permitted a few last words, Brazell shouted, “You fools. Your Commander’s a deceiver. You’ve been lied to for years! The Commander’s really a woman dressed as a man!”

Silence blanketed the room, but the Commander’s neutral expression never faltered. Soon laughter echoed off the stone walls. Brazell was hauled away amid cheers and jeers. Who would believe the ravings of a madman? Obviously, no one.

I thought about their jeers. They laughed not because the idea of a woman in power was so ridiculous, but because Commander Ambrose had a powerful presence. His frank and abrupt dealings were so honest and forthright that the thought of him deceiving anyone was laughable. And due to his beliefs and convictions about himself, even though I knew the truth, I could not think of him in any other way.

Later in the day, I went to visit the orphanage. I found May in the dormitory. This time, happy memories followed me as I walked through the rooms used by the orphans. When she saw me, May bounced off the bed and wrapped herself around me.

“Yelena, I thought I would never see you again,” she gushed.

I squeezed her tight. When she pulled back, I smiled to see her crooked skirt and messy ponytail. As I braided her hair, May chattered about what had happened since I had left. Her excitement faded when she talked about Carra. And it was then that I could see how much she had grown.

When I finished her hair, she said, “We’re going with you to Sitia!” May spun in a circle, unable to remain still. She waved toward a suitcase on the floor.

“What?”

“That lady from the south told us that she would take us home. To find our families!”

A brief pang clenched my heart. Family had a different meaning to me. Valek, Ari and Janco felt like my family, and even Maren seemed like a grumpy older sister.

“That’s wonderful,” I said to May, trying to match her enthusiasm.

May stopped her dance for a moment. “There are so few of us left,” she said in a sedate voice.

“Valek will make sure Carra and the others are taken good care of.”

“Valek! He’s so handsome.” May laughed, and was so delightful I couldn’t resist hugging her again.

Janco, on the other hand, greeted me with a gloomy face when I stopped to say goodbye. Irys, anxious to head south, wanted to be on the road in the morning.

Ari had taken over my role of nurse, and was sitting next to Janco.

“Whatever happened to ‘Sieges weathered, fight together, friends forever’?” I asked him, quoting his message on my switchblade.

Janco’s eyes lit up. “You little fox. Figured it out already, have you?”

I smirked.

“As soon as Janco’s better, we’re coming south,” Ari said.

“And what would you do there?” I asked.

“Work on our tans,” Janco said, smiling. “I could use a vacation.”

“Protect you,” Ari said.

“I don’t need protection in the south,” I said. “And I seem to remember that not long ago, I bested two of my instructors.”

“She’s cocky already.” Janco sighed. “We can’t go with her now, she’ll be swaggering and boasting and generally obnoxious. It’s bad enough I have to deal with that from Ari, I could never handle two.”

“Besides,” I said, “you’ll be bored.”

Ari grumped and crossed his massive arms, looking sour. “First sign of trouble, you send us a message and we’ll be there. You got that?” Ari asked.

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Don’t worry about me, Ari. I’ll be fine. And, I’ll be back.”

“You’d better,” Janco said. “I want a rematch.”

But I had spoken too soon about returning. Valek, Irys and I had discussed my future, but the Commander seemed to have other plans. Commander Ambrose called for a formal meeting that evening. With just Valek, Ari and Irys in attendance in Brazell’s old office, the Commander agreed to honor the trade treaty, even though it had been enacted under Mogkan’s influence. Then he told me my fate.

“Yelena,” he began in a formal tone, “you have saved my life and, for that, I thank you. But you have magical abilities that are not tolerated in Ixia. I have no choice but to sign an order for your execution.”

Valek placed a warning hand on Ari’s shoulder to prevent him from charging the Commander. Ari stayed still, but his outrage was evident in his face. When the Commander held a paper out to Valek, coldness crept along my skin, leaving behind a numb feeling of dread.

Valek didn’t move. “Sir, I’ve always believed that having a magician work for us would be beneficial and could have prevented this particular situation,” Valek said. “We can trust her.”

“A valid point.” The Commander drew back his arm, resting it on the desk. “Even though we trust her, even though she saved my life, I must follow the Code of Behavior. To do otherwise would be a sign of weakness, something I can’t afford right now, especially after this business with Mogkan. Plus, the Generals and my advisers will not trust her.”

Once again the Commander extended the execution order to Valek. In my frantic mind I heard Irys telling me to flee. She would attempt to slow Valek down. No, I told her. I would see this to the end. I would not run away.

“I won’t take it,” Valek said in a flat voice. He betrayed no emotion.

“You would disobey a direct order?” the Commander asked.

“No. If I don’t take the order, then I won’t have to disobey it.”

“And if I make it a verbal order?”

“I will obey. But it will be my very last task for you.” Valek pulled a knife off his belt.

The ring of steel sounded as Ari unsheathed his sword. “You’ll have to get through me first,” he said, stepping in front of me. Ari had a better than average chance of beating Valek, but I knew he wouldn’t win. And I didn’t want him to try.

“No, Ari,” I said. I pushed his sword arm down, and stood next to Valek. Our eyes met. I understood that Valek’s loyalty to the Commander was without question. His blue eyes held a fierce determination and I knew in my soul that Valek would take his own life after he had taken mine.

The Commander gazed at us with a quiet consideration. I felt time freeze under his scrutiny.

“I’ve signed the order, per the Code,” the Commander finally said. “I will assign someone else to carry it out. It may take a few days for me to find a suitable person.” He looked at me and Irys. A hint that we needed to get on the road as soon as possible. “This order is valid in Ixia only. You’re all dismissed.”

The office emptied in a hurry. I was giddy with relief as Ari swept me into one of his bear hugs and whooped with joy. But then my heart seized with pain as I realized that I would be parted from Valek so soon after we had joined. After Irys and Ari left to organize the “escape,” Valek pulled me aside. We kissed with passion and a desperate urgency.

After we drew apart to catch our breaths, I said, “Come with me.” It wasn’t a plea or a question. It was an invitation.

Valek’s blue eyes closed with pain. “I can’t.”

I turned away, feeling like one of Valek’s black statues, but he drew me back.

“Yelena, you need to learn, you need to find your family, you need to spread your wings and see how far you can fly. You don’t need me right now, but the Commander needs me.”

I clung to Valek. He was right, I didn’t need him, but I wanted him to be with me forever.

We left that night. Irys led our ragtag group. Eight girls and two boys from Brazell’s orphanage followed Irys through the forest toward the southern border. I took the rearguard position to make sure everyone stayed together, and to make sure no one tailed our group.

We hiked for a few hours until we found a suitable clearing to camp for the night. More than adequate provisions for our journey had been provided by Ari. I smiled, remembering his lecture to me about staying out of trouble. Just like an overprotective brother, he wasn’t content until I promised to send him a message if I needed help. I would miss him and Janco dearly.

We set up six small tents in a circle. Irys amazed the children as she set fire to the kindling with a magical flourish. After everyone had gone to sleep, I sat by the fire, stirring the dying embers. Unwilling to join May in our tent, I gazed at the single flame that erupted when I poked at the fire. It danced by itself for an audience of one. I wondered for the hundredth time why Valek hadn’t come to say goodbye, fingering my pendant.

I sensed movement. Jumping up, I drew my bow. A shadow detached from a tree. Irys had created a magical barrier around our tents. According to her, the barrier would deflect a person’s vision, so all he would see was an empty clearing. The shadow stopped at the edge, unaffected by the magic, and smiled at me. Valek.

He held out a hand. I grasped his cold fingers with both hands as he led me away from the tents and deeper into the forest.

“Why didn’t you come before we left?” I asked him when we stopped at the base of a tree. The roots of the massive oak had broken through the ground, creating small protective hollows.

“I was busy making sure the Commander would have a hard time locating someone to carry out his orders.” Valek grinned with vicious delight. “It’s amazing how much work there is cleaning up after Brazell.”

I thought about what that cleanup would entail. “Who is tasting the Commander’s food?” I asked.

“For now, I am. But I believe Captain Star would make an excellent candidate. Since she knows who all the assassins are, I think her help will be invaluable.”

It was my turn to smile. Star would do well if she passed the training. If.

“Enough talk,” Valek said, guiding me down between the roots. “I need to give you a proper send-off.”

My last night in Ixia was spent with Valek beneath the tree. The hours till dawn flew by. The rising sun intruded, waking me from a contented doze in Valek’s arms, forcing me to face the day that I had to leave him.

Sensing my mood, Valek said, “An execution order hasn’t kept us apart before. There are ways to get around it. We will be together.”

“Is that an order?”

“No, a promise.”

Assassin Study

Maria V. Snyder

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter One

Valek gazed at the mess on Mogkan’s desk and sighed. It would take him days to go through all the papers, but Commander Ambrose wanted him to fully investigate the extent of Mogkan’s involvement in General Brazell’s plans to seize control of the Territory of Ixia. Plans that had been thwarted. With Brazell incarcerated and Mogkan dead, only the tiresome chore of tying up the loose ends remained.

As he scanned the various documents and notes on the desk, Valek was sickened by the details of horror Mogkan had wrought on the orphans in Brazell’s care. It was a wonder Yelena survived Mogkan’s magical torture. And it troubled Valek greatly that a rogue Sitian magician could live in Ixia for fourteen years without his knowledge. The fact that Brazell had sheltered Mogkan was no excuse. Valek was the chief of security for all of Ixia; it was his responsibility to know these things. Children had been tormented.

Valek’s thoughts returned to Yelena. An icy finger of loneliness touched the emptiness inside him. She was in Sitia, where she needed to be to learn about her magical powers, but she had taken his heart with her.

Cursing himself for being melodramatic, he concentrated on the grim task at hand. An unfamiliar name—T. Daviian—was written multiple times on various papers. When he found the line T. Daviian—My Love—paid 6 golds, Valek guessed T. Daviian had been the Sitian assassin who had poisoned the Commander’s drink with My Love during the trade treaty negotiations. Daviian was the name of a plateau in Sitia. As far as Valek knew, the plateau was uninhabited.

A knock interrupted his musings. “Come in,” he called.

Ari opened the door and entered.

“How’s Janco?” Valek asked. Ari’s partner had gotten skewered with a sword during the battle to free the Commander from Mogkan’s magical control.

“Driving the nurses crazy. This morning he pretended to be dead. When the night nurse reached for him, he grabbed her arm.” Ari shook his head.

“Good to hear he’s feeling better. Do you have a report?”

“Yes, sir. All of General Brazell’s aides have been accounted for. The Commander is conducting interviews with them.” A glint of appreciation flashed in Ari’s pale blue eyes. “It’s amazing how the Commander can get a confession from an advisor using silence. I felt compelled to confess all my boyhood crimes during the deadly quiet.”

“How many advisors were involved with Brazell’s plans?”

“Two so far. We’ve stopped for lunch.”

Valek doubted they would find more. His spies hadn’t picked up on the illicit activity, which usually meant a small number of people were involved. Either that or his scouts had been compromised. An intensive investigation into his intelligence network would be prudent before he could trust anyone besides Ari and Janco.

“What’s the status on Brazell’s soldiers?” Valek asked.

“Everyone on the roster is accounted for.”

“Good.” From the uncertain expression on Ari’s face, Valek knew the man was troubled. “Something else?”

“Yes.” Ari paused as if debating what he should say. “Our initial count of General Brazell’s army had one extra person, but when we matched names to the list, it worked out.”

“Perhaps a servant or an aide was counted by mistake?”

“That’s what I thought, too. But…”

Valek waited. He, too, knew the value of silence.

Ari flinched as if he suspected his next words would anger Valek. “I’ve heard rumors in the guard house. There’s been a lot of boasting about who’s going to murder Yelena.”

Which was expected. There was no love for her among Brazell’s people; she had killed his only child, Reyad, and had played a major part in the General’s arrest.

“Go on.”

“The boasts have stopped, but bets are now being made on when Tam will kill her.”

“Who’s Tam?”

“A lieutenant. That’s all I know.”

T. Daviian? Valek wondered. A Sitian assassin? “Is Tam on the roster?”

“No.”

“When did the bets start?”

“This morning. Orders?”

“Get me more information about Tam. Don’t be subtle.”

“Yes, sir.” Ari saluted and hurried from the room.

Valek abandoned his task and dashed to the stables to check if there were any horses missing. All was quiet. Perhaps Brazell’s guilty advisors would have some information.

He returned to Brazell’s manor house. The sprawling building resembled a minicastle, and Valek remembered the King of Ixia’s brother used to live there before the Commander’s takeover. The Prince had been just as corrupt as his brother, and Valek had had the pleasure of assassinating him as well as the entire royal family.

Valek headed to the dungeons. Unfortunately he was familiar with the location and layout of the underground cell, but he couldn’t suppress a grin. Even though they had been locked within the foul darkness, he and Yelena had found a moment of pure joy.

One of the Commander’s aides intercepted him. “The Commander wishes to see you, sir.” When Valek hesitated, the aide said, “Now.”

Impatient with the delay in his investigation, Valek rushed to the Commander’s office. Ambrose had commandeered Brazell’s workplace. He had stripped the opulent decorations from the room, but kept the broad ebony desk and high-back leather chair.

“Valek.” The Commander gestured him closer. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve assigned an assassin?”

“For what?”

Ambrose’s powerful gaze bored into Valek. Most people would be reduced to a quivering mess by the Commander’s ire. Valek remained unaffected.

“Yelena. The order for her execution is gone,” the Commander said.

Fear coiled around Valek’s throat. “I didn’t assign anyone. When did you last see the order?”

“You were supposed to assign—”

“When!”

Ambrose said nothing. Valek drew in a deep breath. “I apologize, sir.”

“The order was on my desk this morning. It wasn’t there when I returned from lunch. If one of your assassins didn’t accept the order, then who did?”

“Permission to find out, sir?”

The Commander contemplated. Valek willed his body to keep still.

“She’s safe in Sitia, Valek. The order only applies if she’s found in Ixia.”

Unless it was a Sitian assassin after her. He lacked proof but, he vowed, not for long.

“Permission granted. You’re dismissed.”

With time running out, Valek searched for Ari; he found him in the soldier’s barracks. Ari’s strong hands were wrapped around a guard’s neck. The trapped man’s face turned purple.

“Report,” Valek ordered.

“Just having a nice chat with my friend. Seems Tam had been recruited from Sitia by Mogkan and, out of a misguided sense of duty, is now after Yelena,” Ari said. “My friend was on the verge of divulging when Tam left. Right?” He relaxed his grip.

“About…two…hours…ago,” the man said, gasping for air.

Yelena was in danger. A second of mind-numbing panic and worry gripped Valek, but he suppressed all emotion. He needed to think and plan.

Tam was on foot with a two-hour head start, traveling due south. The assassin was still in Ixia. On horseback, Valek could arrive at the border before Tam and set up an ambush, or he could follow Tam into Sitia and find out more about the assassin’s intentions.

Chapter Two

Valek made his decision. He informed Ari of his plans and hurried to the stables. According to the stable master, Onyx was the fastest horse in the barn. Valek spurred the aptly named all-black horse into a gallop when they exited the manor house’s grounds, heading south to the Snake Forest.

The thrumming vibrations from Onyx’s hooves echoed in Valek’s chest. He worried over being too late and missing the assassin. Any delay would put Yelena in lethal danger.

Snake Forest was a thin strip of green that undulated from east to west between the northern Territory of Ixia and the southern lands of Sitia. The official border was located about one hundred feet past the Snake Forest’s southern edge.

Valek knew the border’s location presented myriad problems for both countries’ border patrols, but he had used the cover of the forest to his advantage many times. And today would be no different.

He arrived at Military District 5’s (MD-5) patrol station in the heart of the forest two hours before sunset. Just enough time for him to get into position.

“Sir?” The station’s captain stood at attention.

“A person of interest is going to attempt to cross the border tonight,” Valek said.

“Should we increase our patrols?”

“Yes, but not in section twelve. And I want your guards to be visible, but not be obvious about being visible.”

“Sir?”

“I want your soldiers to herd the person toward the unguarded section so I can mark him and follow him into Sitia. Understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

By sunset, the beefed-up patrol made subtle noises along the edge of Snake Forest, and Valek, wearing a camouflaged jumpsuit over a Sitian disguise, waited in section twelve. His current location was based on logic. If he planned to cross the border without being detected, this tight deer path would make a perfect route.

Crouched on a tree branch, he smiled at a memory. When Yelena had played the role of a fugitive in this forest, she had glued Cheketo leaves on her uniform shirt to cover the bright red color. Her homemade camouflage worked, and she had been able to elude capture during the day-long exercise.

Then, she had been aware that soldiers searched for her; a lone assassin would have the element of surprise. If Valek couldn’t mark Tam, he would find Yelena and track her until she was no longer in danger. He huffed in amusement. She had the unique ability to attract danger even when in benign situations. Perhaps he should amend his plan and just watch her until he neutralized the assassin.

Darkness settled over the forest. Calls of an owl and the hum of insects punctured the silence. A furtive rustling in the underbrush drew his attention. He studied the area and soon spotted a figure. The person clung to the shadows and, at Valek’s distance, it was impossible to see his face in the gloom. A skilled opponent.

The assassin ghosted under Valek’s tree. Valek waited for a few heartbeats before easing to the ground and following the assassin. Part of him was pleased that he had guessed right, but another part worried over the ease with which he found Tam. Occupational hazard, he supposed. Without the habit of analyzing every situation from all angles, he wouldn’t be alive.

By daybreak, the assassin had crossed the border. Valek stopped for a moment to wash the camouflage paint from his face and to hide his jumpsuit. He darkened his pale skin to match the tanner Sitian hues, and smoothed his white cotton tunic and sand-colored pants. Pulling his shoulder-length black hair back, Valek tied it. The heat would increase each day until it reached unbearable levels. Sitia wasn’t the best place to be during the hot season.

The assassin headed toward a small village in Sitia’s Moon Clan lands. Surrounded by farms, the village contained one inn and a single tavern, which Tam entered. Valek circled the building. Only one exit. He waited a few minutes before going inside.

Animated conversation filled the tavern. A joyous mood rippled through the crowded room and it wasn’t long before Valek heard snatches of the stories.

“Fourth Magician, Irys Jewelrose…”

“Ten children!”

“Kidnapped from us. Taken north…”

“Fourteen years!”

“Rescued from right under the Commander’s nose…”

“Soldiers chased them across the border…”

“Fourth Magician saved their lives!”

“Returning them home…”

Already exaggerated, the stories failed to mention the Ixians’ help or that a rogue Sitian magician had started the trouble in the first place, but the gossip did reveal Irys and Yelena’s next stop—Fulgor, the Moon Clan’s capital.

Traveling with a large party, Yelena’s progress would be slower than that of a single person. They had left yesterday morning, and it would take them two days to reach Fulgor, where they would probably stay and search for families who had lost a child.

It appeared the assassin was in no hurry to catch up. Tam remained at the bar until nightfall, talking with a few locals and drinking ale. Valek paid his bill, and waited outside to avoid suspicion. When Tam left and checked into the inn, he seemed relaxed and showed no signs of being aware of Valek’s presence.

Valek managed to get the room next to Tam’s. He would have liked to do a little investigating, but couldn’t leave Tam alone. During the long hours of the evening, Valek wished he had brought Ari with him.

Eventually he dozed in a chair by the wall he shared with Tam. Each slight noise roused him from sleep. In the middle of the night, Valek woke on his feet. He crouched with his sword in hand without any memory of moving. All was quiet. He sheathed his weapon.

“Hel…” a muffled voice sounded outside.

Valek glanced out the window in time to see four men drag a woman from a house. The men carried the struggling victim down the street.

He paused for an instant. At one time in his life, he would have ignored the woman’s plight and stayed focused on the assassin. But not now. Not since Yelena entered his life. And never again.

Valek opened the window and shimmied down the drain pipe. He pulled his sword and raced after the four men. They cut down a small side street and entered a warehouse on the left. A few shrill screams escaped before the door shut, the click of the lock audible in the sudden silence.

Peering through a dirt-streaked window, Valek saw the men lift the woman onto a table. Just enough moonlight reached inside to glint off a knife held above the victim. No time left to consider all options.

Valek yanked his picks from his breast pocket and popped the lock in seconds. Rushing into the building, he grabbed the nearest man and flung him to the ground, knocking him unconscious with his fist.

The three remaining men drew their swords; ringing steel echoed. The woman jumped to her feet on the table, brandishing a long knife. Triumphant smiles spread on all their faces.

Ambush.

Valek looked over his shoulder. Six more armed men sidled behind him. When his gaze returned to the original group, there were two more. Twelve against one. Bad odds, but not impossible. Crates and equipment littered the room, ropes and pulleys hung from the ceiling and broken windows could all be employed for his purposes.

“You’re under arrest,” the woman said.

“On what charge?” Valek asked.

“Espionage, assassination, trespassing. Take your pick.”

Valek considered. If arrested, he could escape later when he had better odds.

“Will you surrender?” she asked.

Chapter Three

A fight against twelve would be impossible in normal circumstances, but the littered and uneven terrain of the warehouse tipped the odds in Valek’s favor. Plus the delay of having to escape from jail if he surrendered could put Yelena in greater danger.

He sheathed his sword. The ambushers surrounding him relaxed slightly. Good.

“No,” he said to the woman. “I won’t surrender.”

Valek jumped onto the table. The woman—who had played the part of victim so well—stabbed her long knife at his chest. He grinned as he turned sideways, letting the blade go past him, then grabbed her arm. Knife fighting was his forte, but he wouldn’t have time for a proper match. Pity.

Instead he twisted her wrist. The knife clattered to the table. Valek spun her and dropped her onto the men who crowded around them. He leaped and seized a rope hanging from the rafters then swung over to a pile of wooden crates.

His plan had been to climb down the crates and dive through the broken ground-floor window, but the other men rushed to intercept him. The attackers swarmed like bees. They yelled and called to each other. Too many. Valek knew it was only a matter of time.

Change of plans. He reached for the rope and pulled himself above the swordsmen’s range. The rope ended at the underside of a catwalk near the ceiling. Valek grasped the edge of the walk and hauled himself up. He lay on his stomach and surveyed the situation.

The building was only three stories high. A wooden staircase clung to the back wall of the warehouse. Boots pounded and dust fogged the air as the ambushers rushed up the stairs. Four men remained at the base of the rope. Smart.

Valek crawled to the edge of the catwalk and hopped down to the third-floor landing. He ran to the closest window, hoping for a way down. Otherwise he would have to surrender.

Using the hilt of his sword, he shattered the windowpane. He smiled when he saw the fire escape. The drumming of his pursuers’ footsteps grew louder as Valek stepped onto the metal staircase. The men shouted to their companions on the ground floor.

It wasn’t the clatter of feet above him that made Valek pause about halfway down but the loud metallic groan. He looked up in time to see two more men push out onto the fire escape.

Top heavy and rusted through, the staircase screeched and broke away from the building. Valek braced himself, but the jolt shook him loose. And his forehead slammed into the edge of a stair when it bounced.

By the time he regained his wits, he was entangled in the fire escape and surrounded by three armed men. Their sword tips hovered mere inches from his chest and throat. Before he could say a word, another man came close and the last thing Valek saw was the dangerous end of a club.

Stabbing pain woke Valek. His head felt as if a blacksmith was using it as an anvil. Every muscle in his body ached and a fire burned along his shoulders and back. His arms quivered with strain until he realized he was hanging from his wrists. He positioned his feet under him and stood. Chains clanked as he moved.

With his feet chained to the floor and his arms chained to the ceiling, Valek could only shift a few inches. He glanced around the cell. Carved from stone, it had one man-made wall with iron bars. The lock on the door was recognizable. Easy to pop if he could get at it.

He wore his own clothes and knew, even if the guards had done a thorough search, he still had a few toys left. No one has been able to find everything he carried. So far.

He would have to wait for an opportunity to escape. Unfortunately his jailers wouldn’t give him any openings. They refused to speak to him. They squirted water into his mouth, standing at a distance even though he was chained. Their actions alarmed him. Usually once he was in a cell, his captors were overconfident and made mistakes.

The reason for their caution became clear when Valek had his first visitor.

“I should hire a painter so I’ll always have a picture to remind me of your pathetic predicament,” Tam said. Pure malicious glee lit his grey eyes. His black hair was braided into one long rope down his back. “I’ve warned them about you, but I really didn’t think it would be this easy. You’ve lost your edge. Gone soft. The old Valek wouldn’t have risked himself for a woman.”

“I’ve no regrets,” Valek said.

Tam huffed in amusement. “We’ll see if you feel the same way when the noose is tied around your neck.”

“Still angry over the lack of work in Ixia, Tamequintin?” Now that he could see him up close, Valek recognized the man. Tam had been a popular and well-paid assassin for the Ixian monarchy and a colleague of Valek’s. When the Commander gained control of Ixia, Tam hadn’t been content to be Valek’s second in command. He disappeared soon after.

“I never lack for work. In fact, a certain magician paid me very well to come to Ixia and deal with a problem for him.”

“Mogkan’s dead.”

“True. But it was the first real challenge I’ve had in a long, long time. And yet I was very disappointed.” Tam gestured to Valek. “Captured with the first effort.”

“So all this was for me?” Relief pulsed though him and he almost laughed.

“Initially, yes. Then I heard about an order of execution sitting idle on the Commander’s desk. If I was going to get rid of you, then the Commander would need a new security chief. How better to show the Commander my unique qualifications by assassinating his former food taster?”

“The order isn’t valid in Sitia,” Valek said. His heart rate increased. Yelena remained in danger.

“But it will showcase my knowledge and contacts in Sitia so well, I’m sure the Commander will understand. And I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t hang around to gloat during your hanging. I’ve hunting to do.” Tam made to leave, but paused. “The authorities are well aware of your abilities, so they won’t transfer you to the Citadel for a public execution. Instead the Sitian Councilors and Master Magicians are coming here. Enjoy your short stay.” Tam waved jauntily and left the cell.

Frustration coursed through Valek’s blood. He should have brought backup with him. He could have sent Ari after Tam, keeping Yelena safe.

Should haves and could haves wouldn’t help him. Pulling on the chains didn’t work, but it was better than just standing there.

The day passed slowly. Muffled sounds of hammering reached him, grating on his nerves. The town probably had to build gallows. His guards kept their distance, and Valek realized his only chance to escape would be when they took him to be hanged.

Later that night, a second shift of guards came on duty. But when one of the guard’s came into the cell, Valek felt magic. Even though he was immune to magic’s effects, he sensed it as if the air in his cell had thickened and pressed against his skin.

The guard was a woman, but she used her magic to disguise herself as a man. Valek saw through the illusion.

“I can help you escape,” she whispered, “but you have to promise to do one thing for me in exchange.”

“What do you want?”

“Promise first.”

“I won’t harm or endanger Yelena, and she’s my first priority.”

“The promise has nothing to do with her. Time is not a factor. Will you promise?”

Chapter Four

Valek considered the woman’s offer. He’d been in worse situations over the years, but now time was a critical factor. He couldn’t wait until the perfect opportunity to escape arose. Not when an assassin hunted Yelena.

“I promise,” he said.

The magician’s tight expression eased, and she flashed him a smile of relief. Moving quickly, she unlocked the metal cuffs on Valek’s wrists and ankles. He rubbed his arms as a stinging pain rushed through them.

“Here.” She handed him a set of lock picks. “Wait about ten minutes before you use them. I’ll distract the others when you get to the guard room, and rendezvous with you on the road to Fulgor.”

“Hurry up, Justus,” a guard yelled. “My tea’s getting cold.”

She turned to go.

“Hold on. What’s the promise?” Valek said.

“No time. Later.”

“At least tell me your real name.”

She paused by the cell’s door. “Ziva.” Her voice was a whisper. “Ziva Moon.” Slipping through the door, she pulled it shut behind her. The loud clang echoed in the stone cell, followed by the distinct click of the lock.

Valek spent the next ten minutes stretching to return flexibility to his stiff muscles. His stomach rumbled with hunger, and he tried to ignore the pangs. Instead, he focused on the task at hand—escaping.

The cell’s lock popped without trouble. Easing open the door, he glanced down the prison’s hallway. Empty. For now. One of the disadvantages of being brought in unconscious, Valek didn’t know the layout of the building. However, most prisons had the same basic design—cells underground and a guard room between them and freedom.

Valek turned left and moved without sound. A few cells were occupied; soft snores floated on the damp air. The hallway ended at a staircase. Lantern light flickered through iron bars that blocked the top of the steps. A thick metal plate covered the locking mechanism, leaving only a slender hole for the bolt’s key. He heard murmured voices and chuckles. The guard room.

Valek listened for a while. He counted six separate guards. Climbing the rough stone staircase, he calculated how quickly the guards would notice him working on the lock. With luck, Ziva would divert their attention long enough for him to open the door. He peered through the bars. Five heavily armed men occupied the room, which appeared to be the office, as well.

Ziva remained in disguise. She met Valek’s gaze and nodded. Walking over to the window, she glanced out. Magic pulsed in the air. She grunted with effort. After a few moments, she cried out in alarm, “The gallows are on fire.”

The men rushed to the window, and Valek opened the lock during the commotion. He waited. Orders shouted, three men raced from the office, leaving two men and Ziva behind. She slumped under the window. The sticky feel of magic vanished as the illusion disguising the magician disappeared.

“Justus, what’s the matter?” One of the guards hurried over to her. Valek eased through the door.

“What the—”

Using the guard’s shock over discovering Ziva wearing Justus’s uniform, Valek rammed into the man and pulled the guard’s club from his weapon belt as he fell. A temple strike later and the guard ceased to move. Valek turned in time to engage the remaining guard.

Club against sword would be horrible odds if the guard had any refined skills. Fortunately for Valek, only two quick moves were required to render the man unconscious.

Without thought, Valek scooped Ziva from the floor and rested her slight weight over his left shoulder. He grabbed a sword, then dashed outside.

Bright orange lit the night sky as fire consumed the gallows. Crazed activity surrounded the blaze as the townspeople tried to organize a bucket brigade. Valek smiled at the scene before slipping unnoticed into the shadows.

Once the sky began to lighten, he stopped to rest. He had traveled west through the forest, paralleling the road to Fulgor.

Ziva stirred when he laid her on the ground. Long brown strands of hair had escaped from her tight bun. She pushed them aside and squinted at their surroundings. Her pale blue eyes widened as she made a realization.

“Not the rendezvous location you’ve hoped for?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you leave me there? If I was arrested, you…” She swallowed.

“Wouldn’t have to keep my promise?”

She nodded.

“A tactical decision. I’d already managed to get into enough trouble without having a backup plan. I hoped perhaps you could help me again.”

“How?”

“Your knowledge of Sitia for one. And your magical abilities.”

“Limited,” she said. “I thought I could light a fire and keep my disguise, but the effort exhausted me. You might want another partner.”

When Valek didn’t reply, she continued, “So I help you in exchange for my rescue? And your promise?”

“Still valid. Although I am curious what I have promised to do.” He waited while she fidgeted with the buttons on her uniform.

“A very powerful magician has taken my child, and I want you to get her for me.” His surprise must have showed because she rushed to explain. “He is…was my husband. His love and affection for me ceased and transferred to her the moment she was born. After that day, he viewed me solely as a breeding mare, coming at night, demanding…” She drew in a steadying breath. “Eventually I ran away.”

“The authorities?” Valek asked.

“I had no legal recourse. He accused me of abandoning the family, being a bad mother. No one believed me.”

“You want me to kill him?”

“No! I just want my child.”

“But he’ll come after you. You said he was powerful.”

“I’ll figure it out. I just can’t pierce the magical protection he has surrounding her, but you can.”

Valek mulled over the situation. The rescue of her daughter would be relatively easy and would honor his promise, but he doubted she would know how to disappear properly so her husband couldn’t find her. It would be a challenge. One that he would enjoy.

Ziva had been watching his face. “You’ll help me, right?”

“Of course. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To Fulgor. I have an assassin to stop.” He pulled her upright and they followed the main road to Fulgor.

They arrived in town near dusk. Once he had ascertained Tam hadn’t caught up to Yelena, Valek rented a room at Staffa’s Star Inn and ordered a large meal. After eating, Ziva went in search of information on Yelena’s group while Valek contacted his spies. He had assigned three members of his corps to every major city of Sitia and had six members living inside the Citadel. The spies kept an eye on the cities and reported any interesting news to Valek.

One of the Fulgor spies had seen Tam near dawn.

“I recognized him from the old days,” Lysa said. “Thought he might cause trouble and tailed him to see what his plans were. He bought a horse and had asked the stable owner for directions to Delip. Then he left town.”

“Where’s Delip?” Valek asked.

“In the foothills of the Emerald Mountains. A small Cloudmist Clan village.”

“How do you get there?”

“The best way is to follow the border of the Avibian Plains east until you reach the mountains, then head south. It’s faster to cut through the Avibian Plains, but no one goes that way.”

“Why not?”

“Sandseeds. They live on the plains and don’t like strangers. Their protective magic attacks are unwelcome to travelers, confusing their sense of direction until they die of thirst.”

Lysa gave Valek a map, and he thanked her. He met up with Ziva at the inn.

“Fourth Magician and Yelena are headed for Delip,” she said. “They left around midmorning. Seems one of the girls may have family there.”

Interesting. Tam had left ahead of the group. He told Ziva about Tam’s actions. She thought for a moment and said, “Yelena will be nicely protected on the road to Delip. It’s not well traveled and no towns are along the way. Fourth Magician will know if a stranger is within a mile of them.”

So Tam planned to ambush them in Delip. On horseback he would arrive in plenty of time to prepare.

Unless Valek used the shortcut through the plains and set his own ambush for Tam. Or he could catch up to Yelena and warn her.

Chapter Five

“How much time will we save if we cut through the Avibian Plans on horseback?” Valek asked Ziva.

“None. The Sandseed Clan’s magic will…” The skin between her eyebrows creased as she thought. “It won’t affect you, but it will confuse me. Unless your immunity to magic extends to someone with you?”

“It doesn’t, but I can tie your reins to my saddle to keep you close. Will that work?”

“I guess. As long as we don’t run into Sandseeds.”

Ziva estimated they would save a full day by traveling through the plains to the town of Delip. After securing horses and saddles from Valek’s Fulgor spies, they left the city.

At the border of the plains, they stopped to attach her reins to his horse. The plain’s long grass and rolling terrain stretched before them.

“Head directly southeast. In a day you’ll see the Emerald Mountains, and if you continue southeast for another, it will bring us right to Delip,” Ziva said.

When they crossed the border, Valek felt the sticky strands of the Sandseeds’ protective magic trying to find a weak spot. Moving through the magical barrier required effort.

Ziva’s emotions cycled from confusion to panic to paranoia. She kept insisting they were going the wrong way. When she tried to dismount in midstride, Valek halted the horses and tied her down to her saddle. By the time evening descend, he wished he had left her behind. Not able to trust her to stay with him, he pricked her with one of his darts after they ate dinner. The sleeping juice worked fast and he faced a quiet night.

Unfortunately, it was too quiet. Valek had been dozing next to their campfire when the insects ceased humming. The heavy pressure of magic lifted.

He listened for a moment. The soft slide of legs brushing along grass stalks sounded to his left. The muted crunch of bare feet on sand came from his right.

When a bowstring creaked, Valek rolled. An arrow slammed into the ground where he had just been. Once he was away from the firelight, Valek stopped. He pulled his knife and crouched low in the grass, scanning the plains.

Three dark figures approached him; the weak moonlight glinted from their scimitars. Two others stood to his right near the campfire. Another creak sounded behind him. Valek spun in time to see a person loose an arrow. He dodged, but it nicked his shoulder. He glanced left. Two more men; eight in all. No time to play nice.

Valek yanked a dart from his belt and flicked it at the figure with the bow and arrow. He didn’t wait for the potion to work before rushing the injured man. Knocking him flat, Valek kept going. He needed to be clear of the circle of attackers to counter so many opponents.

Stopping abruptly, he swung around and threw another dart at the closest man before pulling his sword. As the man collapsed, two of his companions reached Valek, swinging their scimitars at his head. He fought them until they dropped to the ground in exhaustion.

The remaining four figures waited out of range. Confused, Valek peered at them. Why hadn’t they joined in the fight?

“Excellent,” a man’s deep voice said. “You fought despite the odds.”

“Which could have been worse,” Valek said, gesturing to the four.

“That would have been unfair.”

“And attacking me in the middle of the night wasn’t?”

“No. You are trespassing on our lands.” He stepped closer. A foot taller than Valek, his onyx-colored skin was bare. Glancing at Ziva’s prone form, he frowned and magic pulsed in the air. Ziva stirred.

“We thought we would have to fight both of you.” Powerful muscles sculpted the Sandseed’s body. “Why are you here, Ghost Warrior?”

“Ghost?”

“Magic does not see you, therefore you cause a dead space in our protective web. Tell me why we should not exterminate you?”

“Because he is on a Jaydai Quest,” Ziva said, coming to and sitting up.

“He is not Sandseed,” their leader said. “It does not apply to him.”

“The quest is for a Sandseed cousin,” she said.

“Is he worthy of the honor?” The big man closed his eyes. A bubble of magic exploded from him.

Knives rained from the air, all headed toward Valek. With a combination of instinct, skill and luck, he dodged, ducked and deflected the blades. His arms stung with multiple cuts, but he suffered no major injuries.

The Sandseed smiled. “A true warrior. Go with our goodwill and save our Zaltana cousin.”

The visitors left without sound. Valek waited for the return of the protective magic, but the air remained clear.

“Do I want to know what a Jaydai Quest is?” Valek asked Ziva.

“No. It’s better you don’t.”

“Interesting people.”

“You have no idea.”

They encountered no more trouble as they finished their journey to Delip. The immense snowcapped Emerald Mountains formed a gorgeous backdrop to the tiny town. A quick survey revealed Tam hadn’t arrived yet. They rushed to set their plan in motion.

His disguise in place, locals paid off and Ziva on look out, Valek mucked out the stables with no qualms. All was ready.

When Ziva slipped through the side door and hid, he continued to fill the wheelbarrow with soiled straw. The drumming of hooves grew louder and stopped. A creak of leather and a jingle of metal indicated the rider dismounted. Valek scooped another shovelful.

“Boy, come get this saddle,” Tam ordered. Annoyance laced his voice.

Valek turned. His disguise was adequate, but wouldn’t hold under close scrutiny.

“Sorry, sir. Busy day.” He rushed to loosen the straps.

Ignoring him, Tam scanned the almost-filled stables. “Got some visitors, I see.

Anything new?” His tone was casual, but Valek could sense the tension.

“Yes, sir. You missed the commotion.”

Tam’s gaze snapped to him. “Really?”

“Yes, sir. The infamous Valek was spotted nearby last night. Caused a panic.”

The assassin’s confusion lasted a mere second before he drew his sword. “Are you sure it was him, boy?”

Tam’s skills with a sword were formidable. Valek didn’t care to engage him in a sword fight. And he held far too much respect for his old colleague not to allow him a fair match. So Valek stared past Tam’s shoulders and let fear show on his face as he backed up.

Too smart to turn his back on Valek, Tam smirked. “Come on, give me a little credit.”

“Why should I, Tam?” Ziva said in Valek’s voice. She stood behind the assassin. Tam shifted to the side so he could see both of them. Ziva’s magic thickened the air. She looked and sounded exactly like Valek. Her special skill.

“You ambushed me with twelve local. I figured your one-on-one skills have gotten rusty.” Ziva brandished a sword.

Tam immediately forgot about the “stable boy” and stepped to meet her attack. Valek moved. Coming from behind, he pressed his knife into Tam’s throat.

“Drop your weapon,” Valek said.

Tam’s sword clattered to the ground. Ziva picked it up and released her disguise. The assassin grunted with surprise. Valek pushed him away and threw a knife at him.

Snatching it from the air, Tam grinned. “Cocky aren’t you? Considering I taught you everything you know about knife fighting.”

They circled each other, searching for an opening. Well matched, Tam countered his thrusts with ease. Then Valek stepped up the pace, increasing the speed of his attacks. Tam scrambled to block.

“Yelena has taught me a few tricks,” Valek said as he followed a jab with a spinning kick, knocking Tam’s knife from his hand.

“Wait,” Tam panted. He pulled a folded paper from his pocket. “Yelena’s execution order. Take it. I won’t go after her again.”

“I know you won’t.” Valek’s arm blurred as he threw his knife into Tam’s throat.

The assassin gurgled once and collapsed.

“Ziva, could you take the paper and put it in my saddlebags?”

She shot him a questioning glance, but he wasn’t about to explain his unwillingness to touch the order.

“Time to go,” he said. “We should be well away before Yelena’s group arrives.”

Shock bleached Ziva’s face. “Don’t you want to see her? Tell her…?”

Valek wanted to see Yelena more than anything. His arms ached with the desire to hold her. Yet he knew her focus should be on learning about her magical powers, and he was needed elsewhere. He would see her again. Of that, Valek was certain.

He grinned. “No. I have a promise to keep.”

Magic Study

Maria V. Snyder

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

1

“WE’RE HERE,” IRYS SAID.

I looked around. The surrounding jungle bulged with life. Overgrown green bushes blocked our path, vines hung from the tree canopy, and the constant chatter and trill of jungle birds beat at my ears. Small furry creatures, who had been following us through the jungle, peeked at us from their hiding spots behind huge leaves.

“Where?” I asked, glancing at the three other girls. They shrugged in unison, equally confused. In the thick humid air, their thin cotton dresses were soaked in sweat. My own black pants and white shirt clung to my clammy skin. We were tired from lugging our heavy backpacks along snake-thin jungle paths, and itchy from hosting unnameable insects on our skins.

“The Zaltana homestead,” Irys said. “Quite possibly your home.”

I surveyed the lush greenery and saw nothing that resembled a settlement. During the course of our travels south, whenever Irys had declared that we had arrived, we were usually in the midst of a small town or village, with houses made of wood, stone or brick, hemmed in by fields and farms.

The brightly dressed inhabitants would welcome us, feed us and, amid a cacophony of voices and spicy aromas, listen to our story. Then certain families would be summoned with great haste. In a whirlwind of excitement and babble, one of the children in our party, who had lived in the orphanage in the north, would be reunited with a family they hadn’t known existed.

As a result, our group had grown ever smaller as we’d traveled farther into the southern land of Sitia. Soon, we had left the cold northern air far behind, and were now cooking in the steamy warmth of the jungle with no sign of a town in sight.

“Homestead?” I asked.

Irys sighed. Wisps of her black hair had sprung from her tight bun, and her stern expression didn’t quite match the slight humor in her emerald eyes.

“Yelena, appearances can be deceiving. Seek with your mind, not your senses,” she instructed.

I rubbed my slick hands along the grain of my wooden staff, concentrating on its smooth surface. My mind emptied, and the buzz of the jungle faded as I sent out my mental awareness. In my mind’s eye, I slithered through the underbrush with a snake, searching for a patch of sunlight. I scrambled through the tree branches with a long-limbed animal with such ease that it felt as if we flew.

Then, above, I moved with people among the treetops. Their minds were open and relaxed, deciding what to eat for dinner, and discussing the news from the city. But one mind worried about the sounds from the jungle below. Something wasn’t right. Someone strange was there. Possible danger. Who’s in my mind?

I snapped back to myself. Irys stared at me.

“They live in the trees?” I asked.

She nodded. “But remember Yelena, just because someone’s mind is receptive to your probing doesn’t mean you’re permitted to dive into their deeper thoughts. That’s a breach of our Ethical Code.”

Her words were harsh, the master level magician scolding her student.

“Sorry,” I said.

She shook her head. “I forget that you’re still learning. We need to get to the Citadel and begin your training, but I’m afraid this stop will take some time.”

“Why?”

“I can’t leave you with your family like I did for the other children, and it would be cruel to take you away too soon.”

Just then, a loud voice from above called out, “Venettaden.”

Irys swung her arm up and mumbled something, but my muscles froze before I could repel the magic that engulfed us. I couldn’t move. After a frantic moment of panic, I calmed my mind. I tried to build a mental wall of defense, but the magic that ensnared me knocked down my mental bricks as fast as I could stack them.

Irys, however, was unaffected. She yelled into the treetops. “We’re friends of the Zaltanas. I’m Irys of the Jewelrose Clan, Fourth Magician in the Council.”

Another strange word echoed from the trees. My legs trembled as the magic released me and I sank to the ground to wait for the faintness to pass. The twins, Gracena and Nickeely collapsed together, moaning. May rubbed her legs.

“Why have you come, Irys Jewelrose?” the voice above asked.

“I believe I may have found your lost daughter,” she replied.

A rope ladder descended through the branches.

“Let’s go, girls,” Irys said. “Here, Yelena, hold the bottom while we climb.”

A peevish thought about who would hold the ladder for me flashed through my mind. Irys’s annoyed voice admonished me in my own head. Yelena, you will have no trouble getting into the trees. Perhaps I should have them raise the ladder when it’s your turn to climb, as you might prefer to use your grapple and rope.

She was right, of course. I had used the trees to hide from my enemies in Ixia without the convenience of a ladder. And even now, I’d enjoyed an occasional “walk” through the treetops to keep my skills honed.

Irys smiled at me. Perhaps it’s in your blood.

My stomach filled with unease as I remembered Mogkan. He had said I was cursed with Zaltana blood. I’d no reason to trust the now dead southern magician, though, and I’d been avoiding asking Irys questions about the Zaltanas so I wouldn’t get my hopes up about being a part of their family. Even while dying, I knew Mogkan would have been capable of pulling one last spiteful trick.

Mogkan and General Brazell’s son, Reyad, had kidnapped me along with over thirty other children from Sitia. Averaging two children a year, they had brought the girls and boys north to Brazell’s “orphanage” in the Territory of Ixia for use in their twisted plans. All of the children had the potential of becoming magicians because they had been born to families with strong magic.

Irys had explained to me that magical powers were a gift, and only a handful of magicians came from each clan. “Of course, the more magicians in a family,” Irys had said, “the greater chance of having more in the next generation. Mogkan took a risk kidnapping children so young; magical powers don’t manifest until a child reaches maturity.”

“Why were there more girls than boys?” I had asked.

“Only thirty percent of our magicians are males, and Bain Bloodgood is the only one to achieve master level status.”

As I steadied the rope ladder that hung from the jungle’s canopy, I now wondered how many Zaltanas were magicians. Beside me, the three girls tucked the hems of their dresses into their belts. Irys helped May start up the rope rungs, and then Gracena and Nickeely followed.

When we had crossed the border into Sitia, the girls hadn’t hesitated to exchange their northern uniforms for the bright multicolored, cotton dresses worn by some of the southern women. The boys switched their uniforms for simple cotton pants and tunics. I, on the other hand, had kept my food taster’s uniform on until the heat and humidity had driven me to purchase a pair of boy’s cotton pants and a shirt.

After Irys disappeared into the green canopy, I set my boot on the bottom rung. My feet felt as if they were swollen with water, weighing me down. Reluctance clung to my legs as I dragged them up the ladder. In midair, I paused. What if these people didn’t want me? What if they didn’t believe I was their lost daughter? What if I were too old to be bothered with?

All the children who had already found their homes had been immediately accepted. Between the ages of seven and thirteen, they had been separated from their families for only a few years. Physical resemblances, ages, and even names had made it easy to place them. Now, we were down to four. The identical twins, Gracena and Nickeely were thirteen. May was the youngest at twelve, and I was the oldest of the group at twenty.

According to Irys, the Zaltanas had lost a six-year-old girl over fourteen years prior. That was a long time to be away. I was no longer a child.

Yet I was the oldest one who had survived Brazell’s plans and remained whole. When the other kidnapped children reach maturity, those who had developed magical powers had been tortured until they surrendered their souls to Mogkan and Reyad. Mogkan had then used the magic of these now mindless captives to enhance his own, making the children nothing more than living bodies without souls.

Irys bore the burden of informing the families of these children, but I felt some guilt by being the only one to survive Mogkan’s efforts to capture my soul. The effort, though, cost me a great deal.

Thinking about my struggles in Ixia led to thoughts of Valek. An ache for him chewed at my heart. Hooking an arm around the ladder, I fingered the Butterfly pendant he had carved for me. Perhaps I could devise a way to return to Ixia. After all, the magic in my body no longer flared out of control, and I would much rather be with him than among these strange southerners who lived in the trees. Even the name of the south, Sitia, felt thick as rancid syrup in my mouth.

“Yelena, come on,” Irys called down to me. “We’re waiting.”

I swallowed hard and ran a hand over my long braid, smoothing my black hair and pulling out the few viney tendrils that clung to it. Despite the long trek through the jungle, I wasn’t too tired. While shorter than most Ixians at five feet four inches, my body had transformed from emaciated to muscular during my last year in Ixia. The difference had been in my living arrangements. From starving in the dungeon to tasting food for Commander Ambrose, my situation had improved for my physical well-being, but I couldn’t say the same for my mental well-being during that time.

I shook my head, banishing those thoughts and concentrating on my immediate circumstances. Climbing up the rest of the ladder, I expected it to end at a wide branch or a platform in the tree like a landing on a staircase. Instead, I entered a room.

I looked around in amazement. The walls and ceiling of the room were formed by branches and limbs that had been roped together. Sunlight leaked in between the gaps. Bundled sticks had been worked into chairs that had cushions made of leaves. The small room held only four seats.

“Is this her?” a tall man asked Irys. His cotton tunic and short pants were the color of the tree’s leaves. Green gel had been combed into his hair and smeared over all his exposed skin. A bow and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. I guessed he was the guard. Why, though, would he need a weapon if he were the magician who had frozen us? Then again, Irys had deflected that spell with ease. Could she turn aside an arrow as well?

“Yes,” Irys said to the man.

“We’ve heard rumors at the market, and wondered if you would pay us a visit, Fourth Magician. Please, stay here,” he said. “I’ll get the Elder.”

Irys sank into one of the chairs, and the girls explored the room, exclaiming over the view from the single window. I paced the narrow space. The guard seemed to disappear through the wall, but upon investigation, I discovered a gap that led to a bridge also made of branches.

“Sit down,” Irys said to me. “Relax. You’re safe here.”

“Even with that heartwarming reception?” I countered.

“Standard procedure. Unaccompanied visitors are extremely rare. With the constant danger of jungle predators, most travelers hire a Zaltana guide. You’ve been edgy and defensive ever since I told you we were headed to the Zaltana’s village.”

Irys pointed at my legs. “You’re in a fighting stance, prepared for attack. These people are your family. Why would they want to hurt you?”

I realized that I had pulled my weapon off my back, and was clutching it in the ready position. With effort, I relaxed my posture.

“Sorry.” I threaded the bow, a five-foot wooden staff, back into its holder on the side of my backpack.

Fear of the unknown had caused me to clench. For as long as I could remember in Ixia, I had been told my family was dead. Lost to me forever. Even so, I used to dream of finding an adopted family who would love and care for me. I had only given up that fantasy when I had been turned into Mogkan and Reyad’s experiment, and now that I had Valek, I felt I didn’t need a family.

“That’s not true, Yelena,” Irys said aloud. “Your family will help you discover who you are and why. You need them more than you know.”

“I thought you said it was against your Ethical Code to read someone’s mind.” I rankled at her intrusion on my private thoughts.

“We are linked as teacher and student. You freely gave me a pathway to your mind by accepting me as your mentor. It would be easier to divert a waterfall than to break our link.”

“I don’t remember creating a pathway,” I grumbled.

“If there was a conscious effort in making a link, it wouldn’t have happened.” She watched my face for a while. “You gave me your trust and your loyalty. That was all that was needed to forge a bond. While I won’t pry into your intimate thoughts and memories, I can pick up on your surface emotions.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but the green-haired guard returned.

“Follow me,” he said.

We wound our way through the treetops. Hallways and bridges connected room after room high above the land. There had been no hint of this maze of dwellings from the ground. We didn’t see or meet a soul as we passed around bedrooms and through living areas. From glimpses into the rooms, I saw they were decorated with items found in the jungle. Coconut shells, nuts, berries, grasses, twigs and leaves were all artfully arranged into wall hangings, book covers, boxes and statues. Someone had even fashioned an exact replica of one of those long-tailed animals by using white and black stones glued together.

“Irys,” I said, pointing to the statue, “what are those animals?”

“Valmurs. Very intelligent and playful. There are millions of them in the jungle. They’re curious, too. Remember how they spied on us from the trees?”

I nodded, recalling the little creatures that never stood still long enough for me to study. In other rooms, I spotted more animal replicas made from different colored stones. A hollowness touched my throat as I thought of Valek and the animals he carved out of rocks. I knew he would appreciate the craftsmanship of these stone statues. Perhaps I could send one to him.

I didn’t know when I’d ever be able to see him again. The Commander had exiled me to Sitia when he had discovered I possessed magical powers. If I returned to Ixia, the Commander’s order of execution would be in effect, but he had never said I couldn’t communicate with my friends in Ixia.

I soon found out why we hadn’t encountered anyone on our journey through the village. We entered a large, round common room where about two hundred people gathered. It appeared the entire settlement was here. People filled the benches of carved wood that circled a huge fire pit made of stone.

Talk ceased the minute we entered. All eyes focused on me. My skin crawled. I felt as if they were examining every inch of my face, my clothes and my muddy boots. From their expressions, I gathered I wasn’t meeting expectations. I stifled the desire to hide behind Irys. Regret that I hadn’t asked Irys more questions about the Zaltanas thumped in my chest.

At last, an older man stepped forward. “I’m Bavol Cacao Zaltana, Elder Councilman for the Zaltana family. Are you Yelena Liana Zaltana?”

I hesitated. That name sounded so formal, so connected, so foreign. “My name is Yelena,” I said.

A young man a few years older than I pushed through the crowd. He stopped next to the Elder. Squinting hard, his jade-eyed gaze bore into mine. A mixture of hatred and revulsion creased his face. I felt a slight touch of magic brush my body.

“She has killed,” he called out. “She reeks of blood.”

2

A COLLECTIVE GASP SOUNDED from the crowd of Zaltanas. Abhorrence and outrage gripped the now hostile faces in the room. I found myself behind Irys, hoping to block the negative force emanating from so many eyes.

“Leif, you always tend toward the dramatic,” Irys admonished the young man. “Yelena’s had a hard life. Don’t judge what you don’t know.”

Leif wilted before Irys’s gaze.

“I reek of blood, too. Do I not?” she asked.

“But you’re the Fourth Magician,” Leif said.

“So you know what I’ve done and why. I suggest you find out what your sister has had to deal with in Ixia before you accuse her.”

His jaw tightened. The muscles on his neck pulled taut as he swallowed what might have been a reply. I risked another peek around the room. Now contemplative, worried and even sheepish looks peppered the group. The Zaltana women wore sleeveless dresses or skirts and short-sleeved blouses with bright flora patterns on them. The hemlines reached to their knees. The men of the clan wore light-colored tunics and plain pants. All the Zaltanas were barefoot, and most had lean builds and bronze skin.

Then Irys’s words sank in. I grabbed her arm. Brother? I have a brother?

One side of her mouth quirked up. Yes. A brother. Your only sibling. You would have known this if you hadn’t changed the subject every time I tried to tell you about the Zaltanas.

Great. My luck was holding steady. I had thought my troubles were over when I had left the Territory of Ixia. Why should any of this surprise me? While all the other Sitians lived in villages on the ground, my family resided in the trees. I studied Leif, searching for a resemblance. His stocky muscular build and square face stood out compared to the rest of the lithe clan. Only his black hair and green eyes matched my own features.

During the awkward moments that followed, I wished for an invisibility spell, and reminded myself to ask Irys if there were such a spell.

An older woman about my height approached us. As she neared she shot Leif a powerful glance, and he hung his head. Without warning, she embraced me. I flinched for a heartbeat, uncertain. Her hair smelled like lilacs.

“I’ve wanted to do this for fourteen years,” she said, hugging me tighter. “How my arms have ached for my little girl.”

Those words transported me back in time, shrunk me down into a six-year-old child. Wrapping my arms around this woman, I bawled. Fourteen years without a mother had made me believe I could be stoic when I finally met her. During the journey south, I had imagined I would be curious and unemotional. Nice to make your acquaintance, but we really need to get to the Citadel. But I was woefully unprepared for the torrent of emotions that racked my body. I clung to her as if she alone kept me from drowning.

From a distance, I heard Bavol Cacao. “Everyone get back to work. The Fourth Magician is our guest. We need a proper feast for tonight. Petal, make up the guest rooms. We’ll need five beds.”

The buzz of voices filling the common area disbursed. The room was almost empty when the woman—my mother—released me from her arms. It was still difficult to match her oval face to the title of “Mother.” After all, she might not be my real mother. And if she were, did I have the right to call her by that name after so many years away?

“Your father will be so pleased,” she said. She pulled a strand of black hair from her face. Streaks of gray painted her long braids, and her pale green eyes shone with unshed tears.

“How do you know?” I asked. “I may not be your—”

“Your soul fits the void in my soul perfectly. I’ve no doubt you’re mine. I hope you’ll call me Mother, but if you can’t you can call me Perl.”

I wiped at my face with the handkerchief Irys handed me. Glancing around, I looked for my father. Father. Another word that threatened to ruin what little dignity I had remaining.

“Your father’s out collecting samples,” Perl said, seeming to read my mind. “He’ll be back as soon as word reaches him.” Perl turned her head. I followed her gaze and saw Leif standing near us; his arms crossed over his chest and his hands bunched into fists. “You’ve met your brother. Don’t just stand there, Leif. Come give your sister a proper greeting.”

“I can’t stand the smell,” he said. He turned his back on us and stalked away.

“Don’t mind him,” my mother said. “He’s overly sensitive. He had trouble dealing with your disappearance. He was blessed with strong magic, but his magic is…” She paused. “Unique. He can sense where and what a person has been doing. Not specifics, but general feelings. The Council calls on him to help solve crimes and disputes, and to determine if a person is guilty or not.” She shook her head. “Those Zaltanas with magical powers have unusual abilities. What about you, Yelena? I feel the magic coursing through you.” A brief smile touched her lips. “My own limited ability. What is your talent?”

I glanced at Irys for help.

“Her magic was forced from her and was uncontrolled until recently. We have yet to determine her specialty.”

Color drained from my mother’s face. “Forced?”

I touched her sleeve. “It’s all right.”

Perl bit her lip. “Could she flame out?” she asked Irys.

“No. I have taken her under my wing. She has gained some measure of control. Although, she must come to the Magician’s Keep so I can teach her more about her magic.”

My mother grabbed my arms hard. “You must tell me everything that has happened to you since you were taken from us.”

“I…” A trapped feeling seized my throat.

Bavol Cacao stepped to my rescue. “The Zaltanas are honored that you have chosen one of ours as your student, Fourth Magician. Please let me escort your party to your rooms so you may freshen up and rest before the feast.”

Relief coursed through me, although the determined set to my mother’s jaw warned that she was not yet finished with me. Her grip tightened when Irys and the three girls moved to follow Bavol Cacao to our rooms.

“Perl, you’ll have plenty of time to spend with your daughter,” he said. “She’s home now.”

She released me, stepping back. “I’ll see you tonight. I’ll ask your cousin, Nutty, to lend you some decent clothes for the feast.”

I grinned as we worked our way to the guest rooms. With all that had happened today, my mother had still managed to notice the clothes I wore.

The feast that night began as a sedate dinner, but then transformed into a party despite the fact that I might have offended my hosts by first tasting the many fruit dishes and seasoned cold meats for poisons before I ate. Old habits die hard.

The night air filled with the scent of burning citronella mixed with a damp earthy smell. After the meal, various Zaltanas pulled out musical instruments made of bamboo and twine, some jumped up to dance and others sang with the music. All the while, petite furry valmurs swung from the ceiling rafters and hopped from table to table. Some of my cousins had made pets of them. Splashes of black and white and orange and brown sat on their shoulders and heads. Other valmurs tumbled in the corners or stole food from the tables. May and the twins were delighted with the animals’ long-tailed antics. Gracena tried to tempt a little tan-and-gold valmur to eat from her hand.

My mother sat next to me. Leif hadn’t come to the feast. I wore a bright yellow and purple lily-patterned dress that Nutty had loaned me. The only reason I wore the obnoxious thing was to please Perl.

I thanked fate that Ari and Janco, my soldier friends from Ixia, weren’t here. They would be rolling with laughter to see me wearing such a gaudy outfit. But oh, how I missed them. I changed my mind, wishing they were here; it would be worth the embarrassment just to see the glint in Janco’s eyes.

“We need to leave in a few days,” Irys said to Bavol over the din of voices and music. Her comment caused a mood-dampening ripple in those around us.

“Why do you have to leave so soon?” my mother asked. Dismay creased her eyebrows tight together.

“I need to get the other girls home, and I’ve been away from the Citadel and the Keep for too long.”

The tired sadness in Irys’s voice reminded me that she hadn’t seen her family for nearly a year. Hiding and spying in the Territory of Ixia had drained her.

Our table was quiet for a while. Then my mother brightened. “You can leave Yelena here while you take the girls home.”

“It will be out of her way to come back for Yelena,” Bavol Cacao said.

Mother frowned at him. I could see her thoughts whirling behind her eyes. “Aha! Leif can take Yelena to the Citadel. He has business with the First Magician in two weeks.”

Emotions rolled through my chest. I wanted to stay, but I feared being separated from Irys. They were my family, yet they were strangers. I couldn’t help being wary; it was a skill learned in Ixia. And traveling with Leif seemed as unpalatable as drinking a wine laced with poison.

Before anyone could agree or disagree, Mother said, “Yes. That will do.” She ended all discussion on the matter.

The next morning I had a small panic attack when Irys pulled on her backpack. “Don’t leave me here alone,” I pleaded.

“You’re not alone. I counted thirty-five cousins and a whole mess of aunts and uncles.” She laughed. “Besides, you should spend some time with your family. You need to learn not to distrust them. I’ll meet you at the Magician’s Keep. It’s within the Citadel’s walls. In the meantime, keep practicing your control.”

“Yes, sir.”

May gave me a big hug. “Your family is so much fun. I hope my family lives in the trees, too,” she said.

I smoothed her braids. “I’ll try to visit you sometime.”

Irys said, “May might be at the Citadel’s school this cooling season if she can access the power source.”

“That would be great!” May cried out with delight. The twins both gave me a quick hug.

“Good luck,” Gracena said with a grin. “You’re going to need it.”

I followed them down the rope ladder and into the cooler air of the jungle floor to say goodbye. Watching Irys and the girls fight their way through the tight trail, I kept my eyes on them until they were out of sight. In their absence, my body felt paper-thin and in danger of being shredded by the light breeze.

In order to delay my return to the treetops, I studied my surroundings. The jungle’s canopy above showed no evidence of the Zaltana dwellings, and the thick vegetation all around prevented me from seeing too far in any direction. Even with the loud clamor of insects, I could hear the faint sound of water rushing and lapping nearby. But I couldn’t push past the growth to find the source.

Frustrated, sweaty and tired of being a meal for every mosquito, I gave up and climbed the rope ladder. Back in the warm and dry forest canopy, and among the labyrinth of rooms, I quickly became lost.

Unrecognizable faces nodded or smiled at me. Others frowned and turned away. I had no idea where my room was, or what I was supposed to be doing and I didn’t want to ask. The thought of telling my mother my life story was unappealing. Inevitable, I knew, but too much to bear at this moment. It had taken me almost a year to trust Valek with my history—how could I divulge my struggles to someone I’d just met?

So I wandered here and there, searching for a view of the “river” I had heard on the jungle floor. Large expanses of green filled every vista. Several times, I spotted the gray smoothness of a mountainside. Irys had told me the Illiais Jungle grew in a deep valley. Tucked into the crooks of the Daviian Plateau’s edge, the odd-shaped jungle was below the plateau’s rim, leaving only one side open for travelers.

“Very defensible,” Irys had said. “It’s impossible to scale the walls to reach the plateau.”

I was fooling around and testing my balance on a rope bridge when a voice startled me and I had to grab the handrail.

“What?” I tried to reestablish my footing.

“I said, what are you doing?” Nutty stood at the end of the bridge.

Sweeping an arm out, I said, “Taking in the view.”

I could tell by her dubious expression that I hadn’t convinced her. “Follow me if you want to see a real view.” Nutty bounded away.

I scrambled to keep up with her as she took shortcuts through the tree branches. Her thin arms and legs reached and grabbed vines with such flexibility that she reminded me of a valmur. When she entered a spot of sunlight, her maple-colored hair and skin glowed.

I had to admit there was one good thing about staying in the south. Instead of being the only person with tan skin, I finally looked as if I belonged. Living in the north with the pale-skinned Ixians for so long, though, had not prepared me for such a variety of brown skin tones. Much to my embarrassment, I had found myself gawking at the deeper mahogany skin colors when we had first entered Sitia.

Nutty stopped suddenly, and I almost knocked into her. We stood on a square platform in the tallest tree in the jungle. Nothing blocked the view.

An emerald carpet stretched out below us, ending at two sheer rock faces that angled toward each other. Where the two cliffs joined, a vast waterfall poured forth, ending in a cloud of mist. Beyond the top edge of the rock cliffs, I saw a flat expanse. A mixture of tans, yellows, golds and browns painted the smooth landscape.

“Is that the Daviian Plateau?” I asked.

“Yep. Nothing lives there but wild prairie grass. They don’t get a lot of rain. Beautiful, huh?”

“An understatement.”

Nutty nodded, and we stood for a while in silence. Finally, my curiosity broke the lull in conversation. I asked Nutty questions about the jungle, and eventually wove the conversation around to the Zaltana family.

“Why do they call you Nutty?” I asked.

She shrugged. “My real name is Hazelnut Palm Zaltana, but everybody’s called me Nutty since I was little.”

“So Palm is your middle name.”

“No.” Nutty swung down over the edge of the platform and into the tree branches that supported it. The leaves shook and after a moment, she climbed back. She handed me a group of brown nuts. “Palm, as in palm tree, is my family’s name. Zaltana is the clan name. Everyone who marries us has to take that name, but within the clan there are different families. Here, crack them like this…” Nutty took one of the nuts and banged it on a nearby branch, revealing an inner nib.

“Your family is Liana, which means ‘vine.’ Yelena means ‘shining one.’ Everyone is either named after something in the jungle or their name means something in the old Illiais language, which we’re forced to learn.” Nutty rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You’re lucky you missed that.” She poked me with a finger. “And you missed having to deal with obnoxious older brothers, too! I once got into trouble for tying mine up in a vine and leaving him hanging…Oh, snake spit! I forgot. Come on.” She hurried back through the trees.

“Forgot what?” I asked, scrambling after her.

“I was supposed to take you to your mother. She’s been looking for you all morning.” Nutty slowed only slightly to negotiate a rope bridge. “Uncle Esau’s back from expedition.”

Another family member to meet. I considered “accidentally” losing her. But remembering the hostile glares that I had received from some of my cousins, I stayed with Nutty. When I caught up to her, I grabbed her arm.

“Wait,” I panted. “I want to know why so many Zaltanas frown at me. Is it the blood smell?”

“No. Everyone knows Leif can see gloom and doom in everything. He’s always looking for attention.” She gestured at me. “Most of them think you’re not really a Zaltana, but a spy from Ixia.”

3

“YOU’RE JOKING RIGHT?” I asked. “They don’t really believe I’m a spy.”

Nutty nodded. Her ponytails, one on each side of her head, bobbed in contrast to her serious face. “That’s the gossip. Although, no one would dare breathe a word of that to Aunt Perl or Uncle Esau.”

“Why would they think such a thing?”

Her light brown eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe my stupidity. “Look at your clothes.” She gestured at my black pants and white shirt. “We all know northerners are forced to wear uniforms. They say if you were truly from the south, you wouldn’t want to wear pants ever again.”

I glanced at Nutty’s orange skirt. The hem was tucked up into her brown fur belt and she wore a pair of short yellow pants underneath.

Ignoring my stare, she said, “And you carry a weapon.”

That much was true. I had my bow with me in case I found a place to practice, but, so far, the only space big enough had been the common room and that was always too crowded. Now was probably not the best time to tell Nutty about the switchblade strapped to my thigh.

“Who’s been saying these things?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Different people.”

I waited. The silence drove the information out of her.

“Leif’s telling everyone that you don’t feel right to him. He says he would know his own sister.” She fidgeted with her sleeve, rolling up the bright cotton fabric. “Sitians are always worried that the Commander will attack us someday, and we think northern spies are gathering information on our ability to defend ourselves. Even though Leif tends to overreact, his magic is strong, so almost everyone believes you’re a spy.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. I was going to wait and see.” She looked down at her bare feet. They were tanned and callused.

Another reason I stood out among the Zaltanas. I still wore my leather boots.

“That’s very smart,” I said.

“Do you think so?”

“Yes.”

Nutty smiled. Her light brown eyes lit up. I noticed a sprinkle of freckles across her small nose. She continued to lead the way to my mother.

As I followed, I thought about the accusations that I was an Ixian spy. I wasn’t a spy, but I couldn’t say that I was a true southerner, either. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to be called a Sitian. My reasons for being in the south were twofold: to avoid being executed and to learn how to use my magic. Meeting my family had been a bonus, and I wasn’t going to let some petty rumors ruin my time here. I decided to ignore any more sidelong glances for now.

There was no ignoring my mother’s fury, though, when Nutty and I reached her residence. Every muscle in her thin arms and long neck was pulled taut. Waves of unspoken anger pulsed from the petite woman.

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

“Well, I saw Irys off, and then…” The explanation seemed weak in the face of her outrage, so I stopped.

“You’ve been gone from me for fourteen years, and we have only two weeks together before you go again. How could you be so selfish?” Without warning she crumpled into a chair as if all her energy had been pulled from her.

“I’m sorry…” I started.

“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that your speech and manners are so foreign. And your father’s back and anxious to see you. Leif’s been driving me crazy, and I don’t want my daughter to leave here feeling like she’s still a stranger.”

I hugged myself, feeling guilty and inadequate. She was asking for a great deal; I was sure to fail her in some way.

“Your father wanted to wake you in the middle of the night. I made him wait, and he’s been searching the homestead all morning,” Perl explained. “I finally sent him upstairs with something to do.” She swung her arms wide. “You’ll have to forgive us if we go too fast for you. Your arrival was so unexpected and I should have insisted you stay with us last night, but Irys warned us not to smother you.” She took a deep breath. “But it’s killing me. All I want to do is wrap you in my arms.” Instead, her arms dropped into her lap, resting on the blue-and-white fabric of her sleeveless dress.

I couldn’t reply. Irys had been right; I needed time before I would feel comfortable with the whole family dynamic, but I could also empathize with my mother. Each day, I missed Valek more than the day before. Losing a child had to be much worse.

Standing by the door, Nutty pulled at her ponytails. My mother seemed to realize she was there. “Nutty, can you fetch Yelena’s things from the guest quarters and bring them here?”

“Sure thing, Aunt Perl. I’ll have them here faster than a curari bat can paralyze a valmur.” In a flash of orange, Nutty was gone.

“You can stay in our extra room.” My mother pressed her hand to her throat. “It’s your room actually.”

My room. It sounded so normal. I had never had a place of my own before. I tried to imagine how I might have decorated it and made it my own, but I came up with a blank. My life in Ixia hadn’t included special items such as toys, gifts or art. I stifled a bark of laughter. My only private room had been my dungeon cell.

Perl jumped from her seat. “Yelena, please sit down. I’ll get us some lunch. You have no meat on your bones.” As she hurried away, she called toward the ceiling, “Esau, Yelena’s here. Come down for tea.”

Alone, I glanced around the sitting area. The warm air smelled faintly of apples. The couch and two armchairs appeared to be made from ropes woven together, yet they were hard to the touch. The furniture was unlike the other Zaltana chairs I had seen, which were constructed with branches and sticks tied together.

I settled into an armchair; the red leaf-patterned cushions crunched under my weight, and I wondered what had been stuffed inside them. My gaze lingered on a black wooden bowl on a small glass-topped table in front of the couch. The bowl looked to be hand carved. I tried to relax, which worked until I saw a long counter against the back wall.

Stretching across the length of the countertop was a series of odd-shaped bottles connected by loops of tubes. Unlit candles sat under some of the containers. The configuration reminded me of Reyad’s lab. The memory of his collection of glass jars and metal instruments unnerved me. Visions of being chained to a bed while Reyad searched for the perfect torture device caused sweat to roll down my neck and my heart to squeeze. I berated myself for my overactive imagination. It was ridiculous that a similar contraption could make me recoil after two years.

I forced myself closer. Amber liquid pooled in a few bottles. I picked up one and swirled the contents. A strong apple scent filled my nose. The memory of swinging and laughter floated into my mind. The image disappeared when I focused on it. Frustrated, I set the bottle down.

The shelves behind the table were lined with rows of more bottles. The contraption looked like a still for making alcohol. Perhaps the liquid was an apple brandy like General Rasmussen’s of Military District 7 in Ixia.

I heard my mother return, and turned around. She held a tray full of cut fruit, berries and some tea. Placing the lunch on the small table before the couch, she gestured for me to join her.

“Found my distillery, I see,” she said as if every Zaltana had one in their living room. “Smell anything familiar?”

“Brandy?” I guessed.

Her shoulders drooped just a bit, but her smile didn’t waver. “Try again.”

Putting my nose over one of the amber-filled bottles, I inhaled. The scent blanketed me in feelings of comfort and safety. It also choked and smothered. Memories of bouncing mixed with the image of lying on my back, clawing at my throat. I suddenly felt light-headed.

“Yelena, sit down.” My mother’s hand was on my elbow, guiding me to a chair. “You shouldn’t have breathed in so deeply. It’s very concentrated.” She kept her hand on my shoulder.

“What is it?” I asked.

“My Apple Berry perfume.”

“Perfume?”

“You don’t remember.” This time her disappointment showed as her smile faded from her lips. “I wore it all the time when you were a child. It’s my best-selling perfume—very popular with the magicians at the Keep. When you disappeared, I couldn’t wear it anymore.” Her hand touched her throat again as if she were trying to block either her words or emotions.

With the word “magicians” my windpipe tightened. The scene of my brief abduction at the Fire Festival the previous year played in my mind. The tents, the darkness and the smell of Apple Berry mixed with the taste of ashes and the image of Irys ordering four men to strangle me to death.

“Does Irys wear your perfumes?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. Apple Berry is her favorite. In fact, she asked me last night to make her more. Does the scent remind you of her?”

“She must have worn it the first time we met,” I said, choosing not to say more. If it hadn’t been for Valek’s timely arrival, Irys would have succeeded in killing me. It was ironic how both my relationships with Irys and Valek began badly.

“I have found that certain smells are linked to specific memories. It’s something Leif and I have been working on as part of his project with First Magician. We’ve created a variety of scents and odors that we use to help victims of crime remember. These memories are very powerful, and they help Leif get a clearer picture of what happened to them.” She moved away from me. Sitting down, she spooned fruit into three bowls. “I had hoped the Apple Berry would trigger your memories of us.”

“I did get something, but…” I stopped, unable to put the brief impressions into words. I quelled my growing aggravation at being unable to recall anything from my six years of living here. Instead, I asked, “Do you make many perfumes?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Esau brings me wonderful flowers and plants to use. I enjoy making new perfumes and scents.”

“And she’s the best in the land,” a booming male voice said behind me. I turned to see a small, stout man enter the room. His resemblance to Leif was unmistakable.

“Her perfumes have been worn by Master Magicians, as well as the Queen and Princess of Ixia when they were alive,” Esau boasted. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me upright. “Yelena, my child, look how you’ve grown.” He squeezed me in a bear hug that lasted several seconds.

A strong odor of earth filled my nose. He released me, sat down with a bowl of fruit in his lap and a cup of tea in his hand before I could react. Perl handed me the other bowl as I resumed my seat.

Esau’s uncombed gray hair fell to his shoulders. As he ate, I saw that the lines on his hands were stained dark green.

“Esau, have you been playing with that leaf oil again?” Perl asked. “No wonder you took so long to come down. Trying to scrub it off so you wouldn’t smear it everywhere.”

I could tell by the way he ducked his head without responding that this was an old argument. Esau stared at me in silence, squinting and cocking his head from side to side as if deciding on something. His complexion resembled tea without the milk. Deep lines etched his forehead and fanned out from his eyes. He had a kind face used to laughing and crying.

“Now I want a report on what you’ve been doing all these years,” Esau said.

I suppressed a sigh. No more chances to avoid it. Used to obeying orders in the north, I told them about growing up in General Brazell’s orphanage in Military District 5. I glossed over the unpleasant years when I had reached maturity and become Reyad and Mogkan’s laboratory rat. My parents were distressed enough just hearing about their plans to use their kidnapped victims’ magical power to help Brazell overthrow the Commander; I saw no reason to tell them the brutal details of how they had erased the southern children’s minds.

When I mentioned becoming Commander Ambrose’s food taster, I failed to tell them that I had been in the Commander’s dungeon awaiting execution for killing Reyad. And after I had spent a year there, I had been given the choice of the noose or the poison taster’s position.

“I bet you were their best taster,” my father said.

“What a terrible thing to say,” Perl admonished. “What if she were poisoned?”

“We Lianas have a great sense of smell and taste. The girl’s here and safe, Perl. If she wasn’t good at detecting poisons, I doubt she would have lasted this long.”

“It’s not like someone was trying to poison the Commander all the time,” I said. “Only once, really.”

Perl’s hand flew to her neck. “Oh, my. I bet it was his pet assassin that tried to poison him. That loathsome creature.”

I stared at her uncomprehending.

“You know, his spy, Valek? Every Sitian would love to see that man’s head on a pike. He murdered almost the entire royal family. Only one nephew survived. Without Valek, that usurper would have never gained power and upset Sitia’s good relationship with Ixia. And those poor northern children who are born with magic. Slaughtered by Valek in their cribs!”

While she shuddered with revulsion, I gaped. My fingers sought the chain around my neck, and found the Butterfly pendant Valek had carved for me. I squeezed it. Guess I wouldn’t be telling her about my relationship with him. And I decided not to enlighten her about the Commander’s policy on Ixians discovered with magical abilities. Not as gruesome as killing babies, but usually ending in death for the unfortunate man or woman. Valek had not been a fan of that policy, but he wouldn’t disobey an order from the Commander. Perhaps, in time, Valek would help the Commander see the benefits of having magicians on his staff.

“Valek isn’t as horrible as you think,” I said, trying to redeem his reputation. “He was instrumental in uncovering Brazell and Mogkan’s plans. In fact, he helped to stop them.” I wanted to add “he saved my life twice,” but the twin grimaces of loathing on my parents’ faces stopped me.

So much for my effort. He was the villain of Sitia, and it would take more than words to change his status. I couldn’t say I blamed my parents. When I had first met Valek, I feared his reputation, having no clue about the fierce loyalty, sense of fairness and willingness to sacrifice himself for others that lurked beneath his reputation.

I thanked fate when Nutty barged in with my backpack swinging from her hands.

Esau took it from her. “Thanks, Nut,” he said, tugging one of her ponytails.

“Welcome, Saw.” She punched him lightly in the stomach, and then danced out of reach as he swung to grab her. Sticking her tongue out at him, she skipped toward the door.

“Next time, Nut, I’m going to crack you.”

Her laugh echoed. “You can try.” And she was gone.

“Let me show you to your room,” Esau said to me.

As I turned to follow him, Perl said, “Yelena, wait. Tell me what happened to Brazell’s plans?”

“Thwarted. He’s in the Commander’s dungeon.”

“And Reyad and Mogkan?”

I took a breath. “Dead.” I waited for her to ask me who had killed them, and I wondered if I would tell her about my role in both of their deaths.

She nodded with satisfaction. “Good.”

Esau and Perl’s living quarters had two floors, and instead of a ladder or staircase to connect them, Esau used what he called a lift. I had never seen anything like it before. We stood in a closet-size room. Two thick ropes went through holes in the floor and ceiling. Esau pulled on one of the ropes, and the wooden room rose. I put my hand on the wall, but the motion was smooth. Eventually, we ascended to the second floor.

Esau poked his head back into the lift when I failed to follow him out. “Like it?” he asked.

“It’s great.”

“One of my designs. Pulleys are the key,” he explained.

“You won’t find many in the Zaltana homestead. The others are slow to change, but I’ve sold a ton at the market.”

“Does Perl sell her perfumes at the market, as well?” I asked as I stepped onto the landing.

“Yep. Most of the Zaltanas either sell or exchange goods at the Illiais Market. It’s open all year. My inventions and Perl’s perfumes have provided us with a plentiful source of income.” Esau talked as we walked down the hallway. “A group of Zaltanas will make a trip to the market when enough items have been made or when a special order’s due. We aren’t the only ones who sell there either, so if we want something, we’ll go and buy. Unfortunately, not everything we need can be found in the jungle. Like your mother’s glass bottles and the hardware for my chairs.”

“You designed the rope furniture, too?”

“Yep. Except they’re not ropes. They’re lianas.” When understanding failed to brighten my face, he explained, “Vines from the jungle.”

“Oh.”

“The lianas are a constant source of trouble. Probably why they’re our family name.” Esau grinned. “They grow everywhere, and they can pull trees over. We have to keep them trimmed or cut them down. One day, instead of burning them, I took a bunch home and tried working with them.” Esau pulled back a cotton curtain that covered an entrance on the right side of the hallway. He gestured for me to precede him into a room.

“The vines become very strong when dried. While they’re pliable, they can be woven into almost anything.”

At first, I thought we had entered a storeroom. The air held a slight musty odor, and rows and rows of shelves holding glass containers of every size obscured the walls. The bottles were filled with various tinted substances. Only when I pulled my gaze away from the colorful collection did I see a small bed made from lianas and a wooden bureau.

Esau ducked his head. He ran a green-stained hand through his hair. “Sorry. I’ve been using this room to store my samples. But I cleaned off the bed and desk this morning.” He pointed to a Blackwood desk tucked into a corner.

“It’s fine,” I said, trying to mask my disappointment. I had been hoping that this room would help me remember something, anything of my life before Brazell’s orphanage.

Laying my backpack on the bed, I asked, “What other rooms are up here?”

“Our bedroom and my workroom. Come on, I’ll show you.”

We continued down the hall. There was another curtained doorway on the left, which led to a big bedroom. This room had a large bed with a purple flowered quilt, two end tables and shelves filled with books instead of containers.

Esau pointed to the ceiling, which was made of leather hides stretched over branches. “I coated it with oil so the rain runs off,” he explained. “No water drips in here, but it does get hot.”

Hanging from the middle of the ceiling was a large flower-shaped fixture made of wood planks. Ropes wrapped around the base, crossed the ceiling and trailed down the walls. “What’s that?” I asked.

He smiled. “Another invention. Pulleys again and some weights make the flower spin, cooling the room.”

We went out into the hallway. Across from Esau’s bedroom was another bedroom. A plain single bed, dresser and nightstand were neatly arranged inside. No decorations, inventions or other signs of its occupant were evident.

“Leif lives at the Magician’s Keep most of the year,” Esau said.

We continued down the hall, which ended in a spacious room. I grinned as I looked around. Esau’s workroom was stuffed full with plants, containers, piles of leaves and tools. Shelves groaned under the weight of many jars filled with strange items and various liquids. Walking into the room without bumping a shin seemed impossible. The clutter reminded me of Valek’s office and apartment. While Valek had books, papers and rocks piled everywhere, Esau had invited the jungle to reside with him.

I stood in the doorway for a moment.

“Come in, come in.” He walked past me. “I want to show you something.”

Taking my time, I threaded my way toward him. “What do you do here?”

“This and that,” he said as he searched through a pile of papers on a table. “I like to collect samples from the jungle and see what I can cook up. Found some medicines. Found some foods. Flowers for your mother. Aha!” He held up a white notebook. “Here.”

I took the book, but my attention was on the room as I searched for something familiar. The words “my mother” had triggered the feeling of doubt that had plagued me since my arrival at the Zaltana homestead. Finally, I asked Esau the same question I had asked Perl. “How do you know I’m your daughter? You seem so certain.”

Esau smiled. “Look in that book.”

I opened the cover. On the first page was a charcoal drawing of a baby.

“Keep turning.”

The next page had a drawing of a small child. As I turned the pages, the girl grew from a child to an adolescent into someone I recognized. Me. A hard knot gripped my throat as tears threatened to gush from my eyes. My father had loved me even when I was gone and I couldn’t even remember anything from my time here. The pictures showed my childhood as it should have been, living here with Esau and Perl.

“It’s really fun to flip through the book fast. Watch yourself grow twenty years in a few seconds.” Esau took the sketchbook from my hands, and held it open. “See? This is how I know you’re mine. I drew your picture every year after your birth, and even after you disappeared.” He turned to the last page and studied the portrait there. “I wasn’t too far off. It’s not perfect, but now that I’ve seen you I can make corrections.”

He tapped the book on his chest. “When you first disappeared, your mother carried this book with her, looking through the pictures all day long. Eventually she stopped, but after a couple years, she saw me drawing another picture, and she asked me to destroy it.” Esau handed the book to me. “I told her she would never see it again. As far as I know, she hasn’t. So let’s keep it between us for now. Okay?”

“Sure.” I gave each page my full attention. “This is wonderful.”

All doubts of my lineage vanished as I took note of the details that my father had put into these pictures. In that moment I knew I was part of the Zaltana clan. A feeling of relief washed through me. I vowed to try harder to make a connection with my parents. Leif, though, was another story.

“You should show your sketchbook to Leif,” I said, giving the book back to Esau. “Maybe then he would believe I’m his sister.”

“Don’t worry about Leif. He doesn’t need to see a picture. He knows who you are. It’s the shock of your arrival that’s thrown him off balance. He had a difficult time with your disappearance.”

“Oh, yes. I forgot; I’ve had it so easy in the north.”

Esau grimaced, and I regretted my sarcasm.

“Leif was with you the day you were taken from us,” he said in a quiet voice. “You had begged him to take you down to play on the jungle floor. He was eight, which may sound young, but Zaltana children are taught to survive in the jungle as soon as they can walk. Nutty was climbing trees before she took her first steps; it drove my sister crazy.”

Esau sat in one of his vine chairs and weariness seemed to settle on him like a coating of dust. “When Leif came home without you, our concern was minimal. A lost child had always been found within an hour or two. After all, the Illiais Jungle isn’t that big. Predators are not as active during the daytime, and at night we have a few tricks to keep them from our homestead. But we grew more frantic as the day wore on and we still hadn’t located you. You had disappeared so completely that everyone thought you had been caught by a necklace snake or a tree leopard.”

“Necklace snake?”

He grinned, and an appreciative glint flashed in his eyes. “A green-and-brown predator that lives in the trees. Sometimes fifty feet long, it loops its body over the branches, blending in with the jungle. When its prey comes close, it wraps itself around the victim’s neck and squeezes.” Esau demonstrated with his hands. “Then it swallows the body whole and feeds on the carcass for weeks.”

“Not pleasant.”

“No, and it’s impossible to see what is inside the snake unless you kill them. But their hides are too thick for arrows, and it’s suicide to get close to one. Same with the tree leopard. The cat drags its kill into its den, another unapproachable site. In the end, only Leif believed that you were still alive. He thought you might be hiding somewhere, playing a game. As the rest of us grieved, Leif searched the jungle for you day after day.”

“When did he finally stop?” I asked.

“Yesterday.”

4

NO WONDER LEIF WAS SO angry. Fourteen years spent searching, and I hadn’t had the decency to let him find me. He alone had believed I was still alive. I regretted every harsh thought I had entertained about him. Until he showed up at the door to Esau’s workroom.

“Father,” Leif said, ignoring me. “Tell that girl, if she wants to go to the Citadel, I’m leaving in two hours.”

“Why so soon?” Esau asked. “You’re not due for two weeks!”

“Bavol has received a message from First Magician. Something has happened. I’m needed right away.” Leif’s chest seemed to inflate with his own sense of importance.

I suppressed the desire to jab him in his solar plexus and knock some of his ego out of him.

When Leif turned on his heel and left, I asked Esau, “Is there anyone else going to the Citadel in the next couple weeks?”

He shook his head. “It’s a long journey. Many days’ walk. And most Zaltanas prefer the jungle.”

“What about Bavol Cacao? Isn’t he our Councilman at the Citadel? Doesn’t he have to be there?” Irys had explained that the Council consisted of the four Master Magicians plus a representative from each of the eleven clans. Together they ruled the southern lands.

“No. The Council disbands during the hot season.”

“Oh.” It was hard to believe they were just starting their hot season. Coming from Ixia during its cold season, the whole southern territory felt as if it were already scorching.

“Can you give me directions?” I asked.

“Yelena, you’ll be safer with Leif. Come now, let’s pack. Two hours isn’t…” Esau stopped, and shot me a glance. “Is that backpack all you have?”

“And my bow.”

“Then you need some provisions.” Esau began to search his room.

“I don’t—” My words were cut short as he handed me a book. It was white like his sketchbook, but inside were drawings of plants and trees with written descriptions beneath.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“A field guide. I planned to reteach you how to survive in the jungle, but this will have to do for now.”

I found a page with an illustration of an oval-shaped leaf. The instructions below the picture explained that boiling the Tilipi Leaf in water would make a draught that would reduce a fever.

Next, Esau gave me a set of small bowls and some bizarre-looking utensils. “That guide is of little use without the proper equipment. Now let’s find your mother.” He paused and sighed. “She is not going to be happy.”

He was right. We found her working at her distillery and fussing at Leif.

“It’s not my fault,” Leif said. “If you want her to stay so badly, why don’t you take her to the Citadel? Oh, that’s right—you haven’t set your precious little feet on the jungle floor in fourteen years.”

Perl spun on Leif with a bottle of perfume clenched in her hand poised to throw. He stepped back. When she spotted Esau and me standing in the doorway, she went back to filling the bottle.

“Tell that girl I’ll be at the bottom of the Palm ladder in two hours,” Leif said to Esau. “If she’s not there, I’m leaving without her.”

When Leif left the room, the silence continued to thicken.

“You’ll need some food,” my father said, retreating into the kitchen.

Bottles clinking, my mother approached. “Here,” she said. “Two bottles of Apple Berry for Irys, and a bottle of Lavender for you.”

“Lavender?”

“You loved it when you were five, so I took a chance. We can experiment later and find something else if you’d like.”

I opened the cap and sniffed. Again, I experienced no memories of being five, but the scent made me remember the time I had hidden under a table in Valek’s office. I had been searching for the recipe to the antidote for Butterfly’s Dust, the so-called poison in my body that had been Valek’s way to keep me from escaping. Thinking I had needed a daily dose of the antidote to stay alive, I had been intent on finding the cure. Valek had come back early, and discovered me because I had used lavender scented soap.

I still favored the scent. “This is perfect,” I said to Perl. “Thank you.”

Unexpected fear flared in Perl’s eyes. She clamped her lips and clasped her hands. Taking a deep breath, she declared, “I’m coming with you. Esau, where’s my pack?” she asked him as he returned with an armload of food.

“Upstairs in our room,” he said.

She rushed past him. If he was surprised by her sudden decision, it didn’t show in his expression. I added the bread and fruit he had brought to my pack, and I wrapped the perfume bottles in my cloak. During the journey south, my cloak had been too hot to wear, but it had made a soft place to sleep when we had camped along the road.

“The food will only last so long, and you’ll probably need more clothes while you’re at the Citadel,” Esau said. “Do you have any money?”

I fumbled in my pack. Needing money for food and clothes still seemed odd to me. In the north, we had been provided with all of our basic necessities. I pulled out the bag of Ixian gold coins that Valek had given to me before we parted.

Showing one to Esau, I asked, “Will these work?”

“Put that away.” He closed my hand around the coin. “Don’t let anyone see that you have them. When you get to the Citadel, ask Irys to exchange them for Sitian money.”

“Why?”

“You might be mistaken for a northerner.”

“But I am—”

“You are not. Most southerners are suspicious of people from Ixia, even the political refugees. You are a Zaltana. Always remember that.”

A Zaltana. I worked the name around my mind, wondering if just saying the name would make me one. Somehow I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Esau went over to a desk and rummaged through the drawers. I put away Valek’s money. With my father’s supplies and food, my pack bulged. I made an attempt to organize the contents. Would I need my rope and grapple? Or my northern uniform? While I hoped that I wouldn’t have cause to use them, I couldn’t bring myself to part with them just yet.

Metal rattled. Esau returned with a handful of silver coins. “It’s all I could find, but it should be enough until you get to the Citadel. Now go up and say goodbye to your mother. It’s getting late.”

“Isn’t she coming with us?”

“No. You’ll find her on the bed.” He said those words with a mixture of resignation and acceptance.

I pondered his words as I pulled the lift up. I found her curled up in a ball on top of the quilt in her bedroom. Perl’s body shook as tears soaked into her pillow.

“Next time,” she sobbed. “Next time I’m going with Leif to the Citadel. Next time.”

“I would like that,” I said. Remembering Leif’s comment on how she hadn’t left the jungle in so long, I added, “I’ll come home and see you as soon as I can.”

“Next time. I’m doing it next time.”

Having decided to delay the trip to the Magician’s Keep, Perl calmed. Eventually, she unfurled and stood, smoothing her dress and wiping tears from her cheeks. “Next time, you’ll stay with us longer.”

It sounded like an order. “Yes, Per…Mother.”

The creases of worry disappeared from her face, revealing her beauty. She hugged me tight and whispered, “I don’t want to lose you again. Be very careful.”

“I will.” I meant it. Some hard-learned habits couldn’t be broken.

There were only a few exits to the jungle floor. Each exit was named after a family whose residences were nearby. I reached the room that had the Palm ladder. Just as I swung a leg onto the first rung, I heard Nutty’s voice. I had already said goodbye to my parents and Bavol Cacao, but hadn’t been able to find Nutty anywhere.

“Yelena, wait,” Nutty said.

I stopped, looking up in time to see her swinging through the door. She clutched a mass of colorful cloth in one fist.

“I made these—” she paused to catch her breath “—for you.”

The light yellow skirt—subdued by Zaltana standards—was printed with small buttercups, and the shirt was a solid coral color. I eyed the skirt with suspicion. Nutty laughed.

“Look,” she said, pulling the skirt apart. “See? It looks like a skirt, but it’s really pants. You’ll be awfully hot in those black trousers when you cross the plains.” She held the waistband up to me as if judging the length. “And this way, you won’t stand out so much.”

“Clever girl,” I said, smiling.

“You like?”

“I like.”

She seemed pleased with herself. “I knew it.”

“Can you make me some more? Perhaps you can send them with Bavol when he comes?”

“Sure.”

I removed my backpack, and searched for some money. “How much?”

Nutty shook her head. “When you get to the Illiais Market, buy some cloth from Fern’s stand. Then have her send it to me. I’ll need three yards for each set of clothes. I’ll make as many as you want.”

“But what about wages for your efforts?”

Her ponytails flew as she swung her head no again. “Zaltanas do not charge family. Although…” Her brown eyes glinted. “If anyone should ask who designed your clothes—feel free to give them my name.”

“I will. Thanks.” I folded my new outfit and stuffed it into my backpack. Then Nutty hugged me goodbye.

The warmth from her body clung to me as I climbed down the ladder. It lasted until the first cold sneer from Leif drove it away.

He waited for me on the jungle floor. Leif had changed into traveling clothes that consisted of a tan cotton tunic, dark brown pants and boots. He carried a large leather pack on his back and a machete hung from his thick belt.

“Keep up or be left behind,” he said to the air above my head. Turning his broad back to me, he took off at a brisk clip.

I knew I would soon tire of looking at his back, but, for now, the pace he set was a welcome chance to stretch my legs.

Without another word uttered between us, we traveled on a narrow path through the jungle. Sweat soon soaked my shirt, and I found myself glancing up in search of necklace snakes. Esau had also mentioned tree leopards. I decided I would search Esau’s field guide for a picture of the predators when I had some time.

Various birds sang and whistled and animal cries echoed through the leafy canopy. I wanted to know the names of these creatures, but I guessed Leif would ignore my questions.

He stopped once, taking a machete from his belt. Without thought, I grabbed my bow. Snorting in derision, he merely hacked at a small sapling.

“Strangler fig,” he huffed over his shoulder.

I made no reply. Should I be honored that he had finally chosen to talk to me?

Leif didn’t wait for a response. “A parasite. The strangler fig uses another tree to reach the sunlight. Once there it grows bigger, eventually strangling and killing its host.” He pulled the fig’s branches away from the tree. “A process I’m sure you’re very familiar with.” He tossed the plant onto the ground and marched on.

Not a lesson on jungle life, but a jab at me. I contemplated tripping him with my bow. It would be a petty, mean-spirited thing to do. Tempting, but I threaded my staff into its holder on my pack instead.

We arrived at the Illiais Market just as the sun began to set. The collection of bamboo structures had thatched roofs and bamboo shades for walls. Some of the “walls” had been rolled up to allow customers to browse and the light breeze to cool.

Leif and I had been walking downhill, and the trail ended at the market, which stood in a clearing at the edge of the jungle. The mammoth trees of the tropical forest no longer dominated the landscape. Beyond the clearing, I could see woodland that looked similar to the Snake Forest in Ixia.

“We’ll camp here tonight and leave at first light,” Leif said before heading toward one of the stands.

I had thought that with the setting of the sun, the market would close. Instead, a vast array of torches was lit, and business continued unabated. The sounds of bartering could be heard above the general buzz of a hundred or so customers talking, calling to children and hurrying from stand to stand carrying packages.

Some of the shoppers wore the familiar dress of the Zaltanas, but I also saw a number wearing green leggings and tunics that were the dress of the forest dwelling Cowan Clan. When we had traveled from Ixia, Irys had taught me to recognize the different clans by their clothing.

I also spotted a few women wearing the traditional shimmering silk pants, short beaded tops, and sheer veils of the Jewelrose Clan. The Jewelrose men even sported beads and jewels on their long tunics that hung down to the knees of their pants. When Irys had explained her clan’s customs to me, I couldn’t imagine Irys wearing anything but the simple linen shirt, pants and wide belt that she always donned.

I wandered through the market, marveling at the variety of goods available for sale. Practical items like food and clothing sat side by side with jewelry and handcrafts. A pine scent from the torches dominated, but it didn’t take long for me to discern the smell of roasting meat. I followed the mouthwatering aroma to a fire pit. A tall man covered with sweat spun the meat that sizzled in the flames. His white apron was streaked with soot. I bought some hot beef from him to eat right away and some smoked jerky for later.

Trying to ignore the pointed stares of the other shoppers, I searched the market for Fern’s stand, vowing to change into Nutty’s clothes as soon as I found some privacy. Soon a table piled high with bolts of cloth attracted my attention. As I looked through the prints, a small dark woman with large eyes peeked out from behind the collection.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“Are you Fern?”

Her eyes widened in alarm as she nodded.

“Nutty Zaltana sent me. Do you have any solid colors?”

From underneath the table, Fern pulled bolts of plain cloth and added them to the table. Together we matched up colors and patterns for three outfits.

“Are you sure you don’t want this Illiais print?” Fern held up a loud pink-and-yellow flowered pattern. “Solid colors are usually worn by the Zaltana men. This print is very popular with the girls.”

I shook my head. Just as I began to pay her for the cloth, I spotted a material that matched the colors of the forest. “Some of this, too,” I said, pointing to the green pattern. When we had settled up, I asked her to send the fabric to Nutty, but I found room for the forest print in my pack.

“Who should I say is sending it?” Fern asked; her quill poised above the parchment.

“Her cousin, Yelena.”

The quill froze in midair. “Oh, my,” she said. “The lost Zaltana child?”

I gave her a weary half smile. “Not lost, nor a child any longer.”

Strolling past a few more stands, I stopped at a table displaying statues of jungle creatures. They were constructed of small multicolored stones glued together. I selected a black-and-white valmur statue and bought it for Valek. Not quite sure how I would send it to him, I wrapped the gift in my new green fabric.

Campfires began to blaze behind the market. Commerce slowed as the shop owners rolled the bamboo shades down, closing their stands. Customers either headed into the surrounding forest or toward one of the camps. I spotted Leif seated next to one of the fires. He held a bowl in his lap while he talked to the three young Zaltana men seated near him. Through the shimmering air above the fire, I saw him smile and laugh. His whole face transformed in that instant. Scowl lines smoothed. Cheeks lifted, erasing the impact of his serious face and softening his square jaw. He looked ten years younger.

Remembering that Esau had said Leif had been eight when I was kidnapped, I realized now that my brother was only two years older than me. He was twenty-two instead of my original guess of thirty.

Without thought, I moved to join him. In a heartbeat, the merriment dropped from his face. He scowled with such fierceness that I stopped in my tracks. Where was I to sleep that night?

Someone touched my shoulder. I spun.

“You’re welcome to stay at my fire,” Fern said. She pointed to a small blaze behind her stand.

“Are you sure? I might be a spy from Ixia.” I tried to joke, but the words came out harsher than I had wanted.

“Then you can report to your Commander that I make the finest cloth of all the clans. And if he wants a new uniform made from my famous Illiais print, just have him send me an order.”

I laughed at the image of the impeccable Commander Ambrose draped in gaudy hot-pink and yellow flowers.

As the first rays of sunlight touched the straw roofs of the market, I waited for Leif to continue our journey. Fern had been a kind host, treating me to dinner and showing me where I could change in private. As it turned out Nutty was her best customer, supplying all the Zaltanas with clothes.

I fidgeted in the warm morning air, trying to get used to the extra fabric around my legs. The hem just covered the tops of my soft leather boots. Fern had assured me that my boots would blend in better once I reached the Citadel. Only the jungle and forest clans preferred mud between their toes.

Finally, Leif appeared. Refusing to acknowledge my presence, he started down a forest path. After a couple of hours, I grew tired of following him in silence. I pulled my bow and began executing blocks and jabs as I walked. I concentrated on the feel of the wood in my hands, setting my mind into that mental awareness that Irys had claimed was my way of tapping into the magical power source.

To practice control of the magic, I projected my awareness out. At first, I encountered a cold stone wall. Confused, I retreated until I realized the barrier was Leif’s mind; closed and unyielding. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Skirting his presence, I sought the calm forest surrounding us. I crept with a chipmunk, looking for nuts. I froze with a young deer, hearing the sound of footsteps. My mind touched different creatures as I reached out. Gradually, I projected my awareness farther and farther away, seeing how far I could go.

Behind me, I could still feel the people at the market, five or six miles away. Thrilled, I pushed ahead to see if a town was close by. At first, I touched only more animals, but just as I was about to pull back, my mind touched a man.

Careful to avoid breaking the Ethical Code, I skimmed the surface of his mind. He was a hunter, waiting for prey, and he wasn’t alone. There were many men around him. They crouched in the bushes just off the trail. One sat on a horse with his weapon poised for an attack. I wondered what they hunted. Curiosity made me dip a little deeper into the man’s thoughts. An image of his prey appeared, snapping me back to my body.

I stopped.

I must have gasped, because Leif turned and stared at me. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

“The forest. Men.”

“Of course. The woods are full of game,” he explained as if talking to a simpleton.

“Not hunters. Ambushers. Waiting for us.”

5

“AMBUSHERS? DON’T BE ridiculous,” Leif said. Amazement colored his voice. “You’re not in Ixia anymore.”

“Why would a hunting party hide so close to the path?” I asked, ignoring his tone and hoping that logic would prevail.

“Animals use the forest trails. It’s easier than fighting through the underbrush.” Leif started to walk away. “Come on.”

“No. You’re leading us into a trap.”

“Fine. I’ll go without you.”

When he turned his back again, I was gripped with rage. “Do you think I’m lying?” The words growled from between my teeth.

“No. I think you’re suspicious of everything and everyone, just like a northerner.” His mouth twisted as if he wanted to spit.

“You think I’m a spy,” I snapped at him in frustration. “I’ll lower my defenses. Project your mind out and see for yourself that I’m not here to spy on Sitia.”

“I can’t read minds. In fact, no Zaltana can.”

I ignored the jab. “Can’t you at least sense who I am?”

“Physically you’re a Zaltana. But just because Irys claims you survived Mogkan’s efforts to wipe your mind doesn’t mean it’s true.” Leif pointed an accusing finger at me. “You could be a pawn, an empty vessel that has been provided with a northern host. What better way to have eyes and ears in the south?”

“Ridiculous.”

“No. It’s not. You’ve revealed yourself,” Leif said with a quiet intensity. Then his eyes dulled and turned vacant as if he peered into another world. “I taste strong loyalty and longing for Ixia emanating from you. You stink of blood and pain and death. Anger and passion and fire buzz around you like a haze.” His gaze refocused on me. “My sister would be reveling in her freedom, and wrapped with hatred for her captors. You have lost your soul to the north. You are not my sister. It would have been better if you had died than return to us tainted.”

I took a deep breath to calm the sudden fury that threatened to take control. “Wake up, Leif! What you dreamed of finding in the jungle didn’t factor in reality. I’m not that innocent six-year-old. I endured more than you can imagine and fought hard to keep my soul.” I shook my head. I was not going to explain myself to this stubborn fool. “I know who I am. Perhaps you need to reevaluate your expectations of me.”

We stood for a moment, glaring at each other. Finally, I said, “You’re walking into an ambush.”

“I’m walking to the Citadel. Are you coming?”

I weighed my options. If I used my grapple and rope to climb into the trees, I could travel through the forest canopy and move past the ambush while remaining near the trail. But what about Leif; my brother who acted like my enemy? He had his machete. Did he know how to use it in a fight?

What if he were injured in the ambush? It would be his own fault. We were brother and sister by blood alone, and I couldn’t imagine Leif and me ever being close. Still, a pang of regret touched my heart. Esau and Perl wouldn’t want to see Leif hurt. Then I realized Leif was a magician. Could he defend himself with his magic? I shook my head. I didn’t know enough about magic to even contemplate what could be done with it.

“I would have never guessed a hunting party could frighten a northerner away.” Leif laughed as he set off down the trail.

That did it. I unslung my backpack and found my switchblade. Cutting a small slit along the outer seam of my new pants, I strapped the thigh-holder to my leg. I pulled apart my single braid, and wrapped my hair up into a bun using my lock picks to hold it in place. Now dressed for a fight, I slipped my pack over one shoulder, and raced after Leif.

As I caught up with him, he gave me an amused grunt. With my five-foot bow in hand, I set my mind into my mental fighting zone. The zone was a concentration technique that allowed me to anticipate my opponent’s moves as I fought. This time, I focused on the trail ahead.

The men were poised and ready, six on each side of the road. I knew the instant they heard us, but they waited. They wanted to surround us, attacking only when we had walked into the middle of their group.

I had other plans. Just before we reached the ambush, I dropped my pack to the ground and called, “Wait up!”

Leif spun around. “What now?”

“I think I heard some—”

A shout filled the forest. Birds darted into the sky with a flurry of wings. Men exploded from the bushes with their swords in hand. But the element of surprise was mine. I knocked aside the swords of the first two men who rushed me. Slamming my bow hard against their temples, I sent them to the ground.

As a third man approached, I swept his feet out from under him. Two more men rushed me, I stepped up to engage them, but they jumped to the sides of the trail. My confusion lasted until I felt a deep rumbling through the soles of my boots. Looking up I saw a broad-chested horse charging down the path toward me. I dove out of the way just as a flash of steel bit into my upper left arm. Furious, I attacked the man closest to me, jabbing my bow into his nose. Blood gushed as he cried out in pain.

“Stop her,” the man on horseback ordered.

I searched for Leif. He stood in the middle of the road surrounded by four armed men. An astonished look creased his face, but otherwise he appeared unharmed. His machete lay at his feet.

Outnumbered, I had only seconds left. The horseman had turned his steed around, preparing for another charge. The man with the broken nose lay on the ground. I stood on his chest and threatened his neck with the end of my bow.

“Stop or I’ll crush his windpipe,” I yelled.

The young man halted his horse. But as the others backed away, staring at me in disbelief, he raised his sword into the air.

“Surrender or I’ll kill your brother,” he said.

How did he know Leif was my brother? I looked at Leif, considering. The point of a guard’s sword balanced mere inches from Leif’s heart. Fear had bleached my brother’s face. Served him right. The soldier under my feet wheezed.

I shrugged. “Seems we’re at an impasse,” I said to the horseman.

“Indeed.” He paused. “What say we stand down and discuss the situation?”

I began to agree when the rider snapped his fingers. I sensed movement, but before I could swing around, I heard a horrible thud, felt a crushing pain at the base of my skull, then nothing.

My head pulsed with pain as if someone were beating two mallets on the sides of my skull. I opened my eyes for a second, but squeezed them shut again. Bobbing brown hide filled my view, causing nausea. As I fought to keep the contents of my stomach in place, I realized I had been hung upside down and was being moved. I risked another peek and confirmed my suspicion that I had been thrown over the back of a horse. I vomited.

“She’s awake,” said a male voice.

Thank fate the horse stopped.

“Good. We’ll stop and make camp here,” said the horseman.

I felt a hard push in my side, and I dropped to the ground. A jolt shot through my body on impact. Stunned, all I could do was hope nothing had been broken.

As the sunlight faded, I heard the rustle of men working. When I tried to squirm into a more comfortable position, I started to panic. I couldn’t move very well. Then I recognized the familiar stomach clenching sound of manacles clamped on my wrists and ankles. Upon inspection I noticed a foot long chain hanging between the metal cuffs on my wrists. It took a considerable effort not to scream and flail at my restraints. A few deep breaths calmed my speeding heart and frantic mind.

I assessed the damage to my body. Aside from some bruised muscles, I couldn’t feel any broken bones, although my upper left arm burned from the sword cut. I hadn’t noticed the pain during the fight and, even now, it seemed a mere nuisance compared to the pounding in my skull. So I lay still and bided my time.

By full dark, the noises of setting up the camp had been replaced by the quiet murmur of voices. When the pain in my head died down to a dull ache, I tried to move again, and succeeded in turning onto my back. My view of the stars was soon obscured by a man’s face looking down at me. Small close-set eyes peered around a many-times-broken nose. Moonlight glinted off his sword, allowing me to see that the tip hovered above my throat.

“Make trouble and I’ll skewer you with me blade,” the man said with a sick smile. “And I’m not talking about me sword.” To prove his point, he sheathed his weapon.

I decided not to make trouble. At least not yet. The guard seemed satisfied with my silence. He crossed his thick muscled arms over his chest, staring at me. I could feel my switchblade holder on my thigh. Whether or not it still held my weapon was another matter, and I couldn’t risk checking it while under guard. Instead, I surveyed the area to get my bearings.

My attackers had camped in a clearing. Men surrounded a bright fire, cooking something that smelled like meat. A single tent had been erected. Leif and the horseman were not in sight, but the horse was tied to a nearby tree. I counted ten men in the clearing, including my guard. There might have been more inside the tent. Either way, too many for me to fight.

I tried to sit up. The world spun, and my stomach heaved until there was nothing left inside.

A guard came toward me from the campfire. He was an older man with short gray hairs bristling from his scalp. He held a cup in his hand, which he handed to me. “Drink this,” he ordered.

The warm scent of ginger floated from the liquid. “What is it?” My voice rasped.

“It doesn’t matter.” My guard took a step closer to me, raising his fist. “You do what Captain Marrok says.”

“Easy, Goel, she has to be able to walk tomorrow,” Captain Marrok said. Then to me, “Your brother made it from some leaves he had in his pack.”

Leif was alive. My relief surprised me.

“It’s to make your head feel better,” the Captain said when my lips hesitated on the rim of the cup. A hint of kindness touched his blue-gray eyes, but he didn’t let the feeling alter his stern expression.

Why poison me now when they could have killed me before? Perhaps Leif wanted me dead?

“Drink it or I’ll force it down your throat,” Goel said.

I believed Goel, so I took a small sip, testing for poisons. It tasted like sweet ginger mixed with lemon juice. Feeling a little better from the one taste, I gulped the rest.

“Cahil said to move her closer to the fire. It’s too dark back here. I’ve assigned four-hour buddy shifts for tonight,” Captain Marrok said.

Goel grabbed me under the arms and pulled me to my feet. Preparing for another round of nausea, I braced myself, but nothing happened. My stomach settled, and my head cleared enough for me to wonder how I was supposed to walk with such a short chain between my manacled ankles. At least my wrists and ankles weren’t connected together.

The problem was solved when Goel lifted me over his shoulder. When he dropped me near the fire, the other men ceased their conversation. One man glared at me above the bloody bandage that he held to his nose.

Marrok gave me a plate of food. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

The guards all laughed. It was a humorless, frightening sound.

I debated whether or not to eat the meat and cheese bread. It had been only a few minutes since I had emptied my stomach on the ground, but the inviting smell of grilled meat made the decision for me. After tasting for poisons, I gobbled the meal.

With my headache gone, and my body somewhat revived from the food, I contemplated my situation. My biggest question was why had Leif and I been captured, and by whom. Goel still hovered nearby so I asked him.

He backhanded me across my face. “No talking,” he ordered.

My cheek stung as unbidden tears welled. I hated this Goel.

I spent the next hours in silence, using the time to search for a way to escape. My backpack wasn’t anywhere in sight, but, across the fire, a heavyset man tried to spar another guard with my bow. Sweating with profusion, the big man inexpertly hacked at the other’s practice sword and was beaten with ease.

After watching the bout, I decided that these men had to be soldiers even though they wore plain homespun civilian clothes. Their ages ranged from mid-twenties to late-forties, maybe even fifty. Mercenaries, perhaps? Captain Marrok’s command of these men was obvious.

So why had they attacked us? If they needed money, they could have taken what they wanted and been on their way. If they were killers, I would be dead by now. That left kidnapping. For a ransom? Or for something worse?

A shudder shook my shoulders when I thought of my parents receiving word that I had disappeared again and I promised myself that I wouldn’t let it go that far. Somehow, I would escape, but I knew it wouldn’t be under Goel’s zealous watch.

I rubbed my neck. My hand came away sticky with blood. Exploring with my fingertips, I found a deep gash at the base of my skull and a smaller cut above my left temple. I tapped my bun and moved my hand away with what I hoped was a casual motion. My lock picks were still holding up some of my hair, and I prayed Goel didn’t see them.

A possible means of escape was within reach. I just needed some time unguarded. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like that would happen any time soon; two men came out of the tent and headed straight toward me.

“He wants to see her,” one man said as they hauled me to my feet.

They dragged me toward the tent. Goel followed. I was pulled inside and dumped on the floor. When my eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight, I saw the young horseman sitting at a canvas table. Leif, unchained and unharmed, sat beside him. My backpack was on the table, and my possessions had been spread out.

With effort, I stood. “Friends of yours?” I asked Leif.

Something hard connected with the side of my head, slamming me back to the ground. Leif half rose from his seat, but settled when the horseman touched his sleeve.

“That was unnecessary, Goel,” the horseman said. “Wait outside.”

“She spoke without permission.”

“If she fails to show the proper respect, you may teach her some manners. Now go,” ordered the horseman.

I struggled to my feet again. Goel left, but the other two guards remained by the door. By now my patience was gone. If I were quick enough, I might be able to wrap the foot of chain hanging between my wrists around the horseman’s neck.

As I was gauging the distance, the horseman said, “I wouldn’t try anything stupid.” He lifted a long, broad sword from his lap.

“Who the hell are you and what do you want?” I demanded.

“Watch your language or I’ll call Goel back,” he replied with a smile.

“Go ahead, call him back. Take my manacles off and let us have a fair fight.” When he didn’t reply, I added, “Guess you’re afraid I’d win. Typical ambusher mentality.”

He looked at Leif in amazement. Leif stared back with concern, and I wondered what had gone on between them. Friends or foes?

“You failed to mention this bravado. Of course,” he turned back to me, “it could all be an act.”

“Try me,” I said.

The horseman laughed. Despite his full blond beard and mustache, he still looked younger than I. Maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. His eyes were a washed-out blue, and his shoulder-length blond hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a simple light gray tunic. Even from this distance, I could tell that his shirt’s fabric was finer than the guards’ clothes.

“What do you want?” I asked again.

“Information.”

I gaped at his unexpected answer.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Don’t play the simpleton with me. I want military statistics on Ixia. Troop size and location. Strengths. Weaknesses. How many weapons? Valek’s precise location. Who and where his other spies are. That type of information.”

“Why would you think I know all this?”

He glanced at Leif, and sudden understanding flooded my mind. “You think I’m a northern spy.” I sighed. Leif had set me up. That’s why the horseman knew Leif was my brother. Leif’s fear and shock during the ambush had all been an act. He had no business with the First Magician. No wonder he hadn’t said a word since I had arrived in the tent.

“All right, since everyone believes I’m a spy, I guess I should act like one.” I crossed my arms to achieve a defiant posture. The clang of the manacles didn’t help the image, but I sallied forth anyway. “I’m not telling you southern scum anything.”

“You’ll have no choice.”

“Then you’re in for a surprise.” Meaning I didn’t have the answers he sought. If he had wanted to know the Commander’s favorite food, I’d be happy to oblige.

“I could have Goel torture the information out of you,” he said. “He would enjoy that. But that’s rather messy and time-consuming. And I always consider facts divulged under stress to be suspect.”

The horseman rose from his chair, and walked around the table, coming closer to me. He clutched his sword in his right hand, trying to be intimidating. He was about seven inches taller than me and he had tucked his dark gray pants into knee-high black leather riding boots.

“You’re the one in for a surprise, because I’m going to bring you to the Magician’s Keep where First Magician will peel your mind like a banana, exposing the soft center where all the answers lie. Your brain gets a little mashed in the process—” he shrugged his shoulders as if unconcerned about this detail “—but the information is always accurate.”

Real fear brushed my skin for the first time since I had awakened a prisoner. Perhaps I’d made a mistake in playing the spy. “I don’t suppose you would believe me if I said I didn’t have what you wanted?”

The horseman shook his head. “The proof of your loyalties is in your backpack. Ixian coins and your northern uniform.”

“Which really proves I’m not a spy, because Valek would never recruit someone stupid enough to carry her uniform on a mission,” I said in frustration, but regretted having mentioned Valek’s name. A “she-just-gave-herself-away” look flashed between the horseman and Leif.

I tried to stall for time. “Who are you and why do you want this information?”

“I’m King Cahil Ixia. And I want my throne.”

6

KING OF IXIA? THIS young idiot was claiming to be a king?

“The King of Ixia is dead,” I said.

“I’m well aware that your boss, Valek, murdered the King and all his family when Commander Ambrose took control of Ixia. But he made what will soon prove to be a fatal mistake.” Cahil jabbed his sword into the air. “He didn’t count the bodies, and the King’s six-year-old nephew was smuggled to the south. I’m the heir to the Ixian throne and I plan to claim it.”

“You’ll need more men,” I said.

“How many more?” he asked with considerable interest.

“More than twelve.” My best guess of the number of men in the camp.

He laughed. “Don’t worry. The Commander’s military and corps of assassins are enough of a threat to Sitia to provide me with plenty of followers. Besides—” he thought for a moment “—once I deliver you to the Citadel, and show them that I’ve uncovered a dangerous spy, they’ll have no choice but to support my campaign against Ambrose. I’ll have the whole Sitian army at my command.”

He failed to impress me. Instead, he reminded me of a boy playing with toy soldiers. I did a quick mental calculation. Cahil was a year older than me, making him twenty-one.

“So you’re taking me to the Citadel?” I asked.

He nodded. “There, First Magician will reap the information from your mind.” He smiled as a greedy glint sparked in his eyes.

Somehow, I had missed the connection of the Magician and the Citadel the first time Cahil had mentioned it. The reference to them mashing my brains must have thrown me off.

“I’m going to the Citadel anyway. Why all the trouble?” I unfolded my arms, showing the manacles.

“You are masquerading as a student. Unfortunately, the Magicians take their Ethical Code very serious, and won’t interrogate you unless you’re caught doing something illegal. Without my intervention, they would have invited you in, and taught you all the secrets of Sitia.”

So I was to be his proof. He wanted to show them that he had saved the Sitians from a menacing criminal. “Okay. I’ll go with you to the Citadel.” I offered my wrists. “Remove these, and I won’t give you any trouble.”

“And what’s to stop you from running off?” he asked. There was a hitch of disbelief in his voice.

“My word.”

“Your word means nothing,” Leif said.

His first verbalization of the night, and I felt a strong urge to quiet him with my fist. I stared at him, beaming the promise of a future confrontation.

Cahil appeared unconvinced.

“How about the twelve men you have guarding me?” I asked.

“No. You’re my prisoner. You should be dressed as such.” Cahil waved his hand, and the two guards by the tent’s entrance grabbed my arms.

Meeting over. I was dragged from the tent and dumped by the fire, where Goel resumed his hawklike guard. Cahil had left me no choice. I would not arrive at the Citadel as his prize.

I lay there, watching and listening to the men as a simple plan formed in my mind. When the camp settled in for the night, two men relieved Goel. I feigned sleep, waiting until the second shift of men had enough time to grow bored.

Magic was the only weapon I had left; yet I was uncertain of my strength and abilities. What I planned to do could be considered a direct violation of the Magicians’ Ethical Code, but, at this point, I didn’t care. I would have preferred to fight, but I was out of options and time.

Breathing deep, I tried to project my awareness out. Without the aid of my bow, I failed miserably. I couldn’t focus. Not wanting to risk any big movements, I rubbed my thumbs along my fingertips. The skin contact helped to center my mind until I could push it away from me.

I had hoped my guards would be drowsy, but one whistled under his breath and the other reviewed military tactics in his head, although I could feel the desire for sleep pulling at their minds.

I used that desire. I gave a mental command to sleep, and crossed my fingers. My knowledge of magic was very limited; I had no idea if it would work. At first, resistance pushed back. I tried again. Soon, the two men sank to the ground, but still remained awake. I had wanted to be subtle, but the night was running out. Sleep, I ordered with force, and they fell over.

The chains clanked when I sat up. Pressing them to my beating chest, I scanned the slumbering men. I had forgotten about the noise. Since I could only use one hand and my mouth, picking the manacles’ locks would be difficult and loud, so I revised my plan. Perhaps I could send all the men into a deep sleep where noise would not rouse them.

I projected my awareness, touching each man’s mind, putting them into a heavy, dreamless slumber. Cahil slept on a cot in the tent. While I would have enjoyed rifling through his mind, I settled for sending him into an unconscious state. Leif’s magical protection prevented me from affecting him. I hoped he was a heavy sleeper.

Working with my diamond pick in one hand and with the tension wrench between my teeth, I managed to pop the locks on my wrist manacles after a fifth attempt. The sky began to brighten a shade. My time was slipping away. I crept into the tent to retrieve my backpack, stuffing my belongings into it. I made more noise then I wanted, but my instincts told me that full dawn would waken the men. As I fled, I grabbed my bow from beside the guard who had claimed it.

Running through the forest, I noticed that the darkness faded with every stride. My thoughts turned sluggish, and I huffed for breath as weakness pulled at my legs. Using magic on the men had drained my energy.

I scanned the treetops, looking for a big leaf variety with lots of branches. Spotting a tree with potential, I halted and took my grapple and rope from my backpack.

By the time I managed to hook a branch, my arms felt like rubber. I had to smile at the irony of my situation, though, as I pulled myself up the rope. This was the third time I had used the treetops for escape, and the climb was becoming almost routine. But the distant shouts of angry men spurred me on.

When I reached the top, I reeled in my rope, and then scrambled to a higher limb for more cover. I wrapped Fern’s green cloth around me as I sat with my back to the trunk, my knees drawn to my chest. Leaving a gap to see through, I settled in for a long wait. I hoped my strength would return soon.

Hearing a commotion, I imagined the scene going on at Cahil’s camp. The reprimand of the guards who fell asleep during their watch; the discovery that my backpack and effects were missing. I trusted that made Cahil pause, knowing that I had stood only a few feet from him and let him live.

My position in the tree was closer to the camp than I had wanted. Searchers with drawn swords came into view sooner than I had anticipated. I froze in my green cocoon.

Goel led the men. He stooped to inspect a bush, and then called, “This way. She’s not far. The sap’s still sticky.”

Rivers of sweat ran down my skin. Goel was a tracker. I moved my hand, finding the slit in my pants. My switchblade hadn’t been confiscated. Grabbing the smooth wood of the handle made me feel a bit better.

He stopped at the bottom of my tree. I shifted my weight forward and crouched on the branch, preparing to flee if needed.

Goel examined the ground around the base of the trunk. His eyes slid up into the branches. My breath locked as cold fear splashed through me. I realized I had made a grave mistake.

A predatory smile spread across Goel’s lips. “Found you.”

7

I YANKED MY FOREST CAMOUFLAGE off my back and shook the material out like a sheet.

“There she is,” one of Goel’s men cried out, pointing up at me.

Releasing the fabric, I let it float down toward the men. The second the material obscured their view, I launched myself through the treetops, scrambling with a sudden spur of energy from branch to branch in an effort to get myself higher and farther from Goel and his men.

“Hey!” someone yelled from below.

“Stop her!”

I kept moving, hoping that Goel couldn’t track me through the trees. My mistake had been to forget that Cahil had searched through my backpack. He knew I carried a grapple and rope. With a good tracker and the hint of my trick, it hadn’t taken them long to find me.

Curses and yelling followed below me. I focused all my efforts on finding branches that would hold my weight, and getting away. Once my mind calmed enough for rational thought, I realized I was making a racket. Goel and his men could track me by listening to the rattle of the leaves and the snapping of branches. All they had to do then was wait for me to fall, or exhaust myself.

Once I slowed down, taking care not to make any noise, I could hear the men on the forest floor. They called my position to each other, closing in.

“Hold up!” a voice said right below me.

My muscles jerked in shock.

“She stopped.”

I kept climbing. My progress was a nerve-racking snail’s pace, but quiet.

“We have you,” Goel called. “Come down now and I’ll only hurt you a little.”

I bit back a sarcastic reply to his “generous” offer. Instead, I continued to move through the trees. The men remained silent, and soon I had no idea where they were. I paused on an upper branch to search for some sign of them, but saw nothing but a sea of green leaves.

Then my imagination kicked in. I felt trapped. My face burned with the sudden belief that Goel’s eyes were on me. Panic pumped in my heart until I remembered the instruction Irys had given me back in the jungle—seek with your mind, not with your eyes. Using my magic still wasn’t instinctive.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled my bow, concentrated on the smooth wood against my fingers, and projected my awareness down to the forest floor.

The men had spread out. They searched a wide area to my right. I couldn’t sense Goel below. With a sick feeling crawling along my skin, I swept the treetops. Goel had climbed into the canopy. He followed the trail I had left in my haste. Black thoughts of inflicting pain colored his mind.

When he reached the place where I had begun to travel with more care, I waited. He hesitated for a heartbeat, but spotted another sign, continuing on toward my location.

It was only a matter of time before Goel found me. I considered using my magic to force him off my trail. Could I make him fall asleep? Probably, but Goel would eventually wake up and track me down. I could try prompting him into forgetting who he searched for, but for that I would need to delve deep into his mind and such an effort would drain my remaining strength.

Think. I had to take Goel out. Unless Cahil had another tracker, my chances of escaping improved without Goel on my tail. A plan began to form in my mind. I slid my bow back through its holder on my pack.

Keeping light contact with Goel’s mind, I picked up the pace and continued on my route for a while, making sure to leave a trail. When I reached a small clearing in the forest, I swung down to the ground, landing with a hard jolt. Leaving nice deep boot prints, I walked across the clearing, and broke through the underbrush on the other side.

Now came the hard part. Retracing my path, I returned to the tree from which I had jumped. The grapple would leave marks, so I used it to throw the rope over the tree branch, and then I shimmied up. Hopefully, the rub marks on the branch would make it appear that I had gone down to the clearing, not up. Then I looped the rope and hung it around my shoulder and torso so my hands were free.

Goel was now close enough to hear me. I made a small grunt like I had hit the ground hard. With the utmost care, I climbed higher in the tree. Goel came into sight. I froze.

He inspected the branch I had used to drop into the clearing. He leaned over and peered at the forest floor.

“So me prey has gone to ground,” Goel said to himself.

He swung down and crouched by my marks. His thoughts focused on how much he would enjoy torturing me. Sleep, I projected into his mind. Sleep. But he was wide-awake and the command raised immediate suspicions. He stood and glanced around the clearing.

Damn. That wasn’t working. Don’t look up; I projected as I moved to a lower branch. The leaves shook, but Goel didn’t notice. Triggering my switchblade, I cut a three-foot section of rope. I wrapped the ends around my hands as Goel turned back to examine my tracks.

I jumped, landing behind him. Before he could move, I looped the rope I held around his throat. I spun. My backpack touched his back, and the rope was now over my shoulder. I dropped to one knee, forcing Goel to bend backward over me. In that position only his fingertips could reach me. Instead, he yanked at the garrote around his neck.

Just when I thought he was unconscious, his head bumped mine, and I felt his full weight on my back. He did a backward somersault over me. I saw his boots hit the ground in front of me.

Damn. Goel knew some self-defense techniques. He straightened and wrenched the rope right out of my hands.

“Got anything else?” he asked. His voice rasped from my strangulation attempt.

I pulled my bow from my back. He drew his sword.

He smiled. “Little girl. Little weapon.” Goel pointed to himself. “Big man. Big weapon.”

I shifted into a fighting stance, balancing my weight on the balls of my feet. He wasn’t going to intimidate me. If I could disarm my friend Ari, who had twice Goel’s muscle mass, and Ari’s partner, Janco, who was rabbit fast, I could take on Goel.

Sliding my hands along the wood of my weapon, I reestablished my mental link with Goel. When he lunged, I knew it before he moved. I stepped to the side, turning sideways so his sword missed my stomach. In a stride, I was in close. I slammed my bow into his temple. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Thanking fate that Goel hadn’t called for his men, I searched his pack. I found brass knuckles, a small whip, a black club, an assortment of knives, a gag, manacles, keys and my camouflage material.

If I killed Goel, I would be doing the south a favor. A shame that Goel’s death wouldn’t go well in my “I’m not a spy” defense. So I dragged him to a tree and propped him into a sitting position against the trunk. The manacles had just enough chain for me to lock his hands behind the tree. I shoved his gag into his mouth, fastening the strap around his head.

I took my camouflage material and the manacles’ keys from his pack. Then I hid his pack and sword in the bushes. Pausing a moment to regain my focus, I sought Goel’s men with my mind. Satisfied that they were far enough away, I mentally scanned the forest for Cahil’s campsite. Once I knew in which direction to go, I set out.

I couldn’t leave Goel to die. Yet, if I released him, he would only track me down. I could find someone to direct me to the Citadel, and hope the few hours it took Cahil to find Goel would be enough time for me to stay ahead of them. That had been my intent when I had first escaped. But now that rankled. It would be the actions of a criminal or a spy, and I wasn’t guilty. I wouldn’t run away.

Perhaps I could use my magic and trick Goel into losing my trail. Then I could follow Cahil, keeping a close eye on him. But would he continue to the Citadel without me as his prisoner? I didn’t know.

A sudden intense desire for Valek was swept through my body. Discussing military tactics with him had always helped me work out a problem. I thought about how Valek would handle this situation and, soon after, a rough plan formed.

“You lost her,” Cahil repeated. He frowned as he stared at the faces of the four unhappy men who stood in front of him. “Where’s Goel?” he asked.

A mumbled reply.

“You lost him, too?” Outrage gripped Cahil’s face.

The men cringed and stammered.

I suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. My position near his campsite afforded me a clear view of Cahil and his men, while I remained hidden under my camouflage. I had used the waning daylight and the clamor of the search party’s arrival to move closer to the clearing.

“You’re a bunch of bumbling fools. Searching a prisoner for weapons and anything that would help an escape, is standard procedure.” Cahil glared at his men. “A complete and thorough search. You don’t stop because you found one weapon.” Cahil stared at his men until they fidgeted. “Captain Marrok?”

“Yes, my lord.” Marrok snapped to attention.

“If Goel doesn’t return by first light, I want you to lead a search party to find him. He’s our best chance of recovering that spy,” Cahil ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Cahil stalked off to his tent. When he was gone, I could see the grim faces of his men as they stood around the campfire. The smell of roasting meat made my stomach complain. I hadn’t eaten all day, but I couldn’t risk making any noise. With a sigh, I squirmed into a comfortable position, settling in for a long wait.

Keeping alert proved difficult once the men had gone to sleep. Captain Marrok posted two guards, who circled the campsite. Using magic had drained me and I fought my heavy eyelids until I gave up and dozed for a while. The dream image of Goel’s hands on my neck jerked me awake in the middle of the night.

The guards were on the far side of the camp. I used my magic to send the sleeping men into a deeper slumber. The guards, though, fought hard. The image of the harsh punishment their comrades had received for falling asleep on guard duty the night before kept them vigilant. So I tried the “don’t look” command as I crept toward Cahil’s tent.

Upon reaching the back wall of the tent, I triggered my switchblade and cut a slit in the fabric. Then I entered the tent through that small opening.

Cahil was asleep. Leif looked like he hadn’t heard my entrance. Curled up on his side with one arm dangling over the edge of the cot, he appeared to be sleeping. Cahil lay on his back, his arms crossed over his stomach. His long sword rested on the floor within Cahil’s reach. I moved the weapon away before I sat on his chest.

The instant he awoke, I had my blade pressed against his throat. “Quiet or I’ll kill you,” I whispered.

His eyes widened. He tried to move his arms, but my weight pinned them down. Cahil could muscle me off, but I pushed the blade’s point into his skin. A drop of blood welled.

“Don’t move,” I said. “Your sword is out of reach. I’m not that stupid.”

“So I’m learning,” he whispered.

I felt him relax.

“What do you want?” Cahil asked.

“A truce.”

“What kind?”

“You stop trying to drag me to the Citadel in chains and I’ll accompany you there as a fellow traveler.”

“What do I get out of the deal?”

“You get Goel back and my cooperation.”

“You have Goel?”

I dangled the manacles’ keys over his face.

“How can I trust you when your brother doesn’t trust you?”

“I’m offering a truce. So far, I’ve had two opportunities to kill you. You’re a real threat to Ixia. If I were a true spy, your death would make me famous in the north.”

“And if I renege on this truce?”

I shrugged. “I’ll escape again. But this time, I’ll leave Goel’s dead body behind.”

“He’s a good tracker,” Cahil said with pride.

“Unfortunately.”

“If I say no to your offer?”

“Then I’m gone, leaving you to find Goel.”

“Dead?”

“Yes.” I bluffed.

“Why come back? You took care of Goel. He was the only threat to you.”

“Because I want the chance to prove that I’m not a spy,” I said with frustration. “I’m a Zaltana. And I’m not going to run like a criminal, because I’m not guilty. But I don’t want to be your prisoner. And…” I couldn’t explain anymore. I sighed. He was right. If my own brother didn’t trust me, why should Cahil? I had gambled and lost.

Time for plan B. I would run. My safest course would be to find Irys. I withdrew my switchblade from Cahil’s throat. After a full day on the lam without food or sleep, a bone-deep fatigue overcame me. I jumped off of Cahil.

“I’m not going to kill anybody.” I backed toward the slit I had cut in the tent, keeping my eyes on Cahil.

When I turned to find the rip in the fabric, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame me, and I stumbled to the ground. The tent spun and I lost consciousness for a mere moment as all my energy fled. I regained my wits in time to see Cahil pick up my switchblade.

8

CAHIL MOVED AWAY AND lit the lantern on his bedside table. He examined my switchblade in the candlelight.

“My lord?” a voice called through the door.

I braced myself, preparing to be accosted and manacled by a rush of guards.

“Everything’s fine,” Cahil called.

“Very good, sir.”

I heard the guard move away and I looked at Cahil in surprise. Perhaps he wanted me to tell him where Goel was before he “reclaimed” me. I sat up and glanced at Leif. His eyes were closed, but I didn’t know if the light and Cahil’s voice had roused him.

“These markings are very familiar,” Cahil said, referring to the six symbols engraved on the handle of my switchblade. “My uncle’s secret battle codes, I believe.” His gaze returned to me.

His sleep-tousled hair reinforced my first impression of his youth, but a sharp intelligence danced in his eyes.

I nodded. The codes had been used by the King of Ixia to send secret messages to his captains during battles.

“It’s been so long,” Cahil said. A brief sadness pulled at his face. “What do they mean?”

“It says, ‘Sieges weathered, fight together, friends forever.’ It was a gift.”

“Someone in the north?”

Loneliness touched my heart as I thought of what I had lost by coming south. My fingers sought the lump under my shirt, Valek’s Butterfly. “Yes.”

“Who?”

An odd question. Why would he care? I searched Cahil’s face for some sign of duplicity, and found only curiosity. “Janco. One of my self-defense teachers.” I grinned at the memories of Janco singing his rhymes and knocking aside my attacks. “Without him and Ari, I wouldn’t have had the skills to escape you and take on Goel today.”

“They taught you well.” Cahil ran a hand along his neck, smearing the drop of blood.

He seemed deep in thought as he turned my switchblade in his hands. He pushed the blade into the handle then triggered it. The snick from the weapon made me flinch.

“Well made,” he said.

Cahil stepped toward me. I scrambled upright and stood in a defensive stance. Even though I was light-headed and weak, I contemplated my chances of getting away. Instead of threatening me, Cahil retracted the blade and gave me the switchblade. I looked at the weapon in my hand with a tired astonishment.

“A truce, then,” he said. “But any trouble and I’ll have you in chains.” Cahil gestured to a corner of the tent. “You’re exhausted. Get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.” Placing his sword back within reach, Cahil lay down on his cot.

“Do you want to know where Goel is?” I asked.

“Is he in any immediate danger?”

“Unless there are poisonous or predatory animals in this forest.”

“Then let him sweat out the night. Serves him right for being caught.” Cahil closed his eyes.

I glanced around the tent. Leif hadn’t moved since I had arrived, but his eyes were open. He made no comment as he rolled over to his other side, turning his back on me. Again.

I sighed, wondering how much he had heard, and found I was too tired to care. With weariness dragging at my limbs, I spread my cloak on the floor, blew out the lantern and collapsed on my makeshift bed.

The next morning, Leif left the tent without saying a word. Cahil told me to stay inside while he made a show of the fact that Goel hadn’t returned.

I heard Cahil question the guards of the previous night.

“All was quiet, my lord,” one man replied.

“Nothing unusual?” Cahil asked.

“Just your light, sir. But you said—”

“What if I’d had a knife at my throat, Erant? Would you have believed what I said?”

“No, sir.”

“How did you know, then, that I wasn’t in trouble?”

“I didn’t, sir. I should have checked,” Erant said, sounding miserable.

“Should haves lead to death. In war, you don’t get a second chance. In a battle with the north, they won’t send an army against us. They’ll send one man. Without vigilance, we’ll all be killed in our sleep.”

Someone scoffed. “Surely one man can’t get by us.”

“How about a woman?” Cahil asked.

“No way,” a guard said amid cheers of assent.

“Then explain this. Yelena,” Cahil called. An immediate silence filled the forest. “Join me, please.”

I didn’t like being part of Cahil’s lesson, but he was right. An assassin trained by Valek would have had no trouble taking out his guards. I stepped from the tent, holding my bow in case anyone decided to rush me. The morning sun shone in my eyes as I squinted to examine Cahil’s men.

Surprise, anger and disbelief peppered their faces. Captain Marrok drew his sword. Leif was nowhere in sight.

“Everything wasn’t fine last night, Erant,” Cahil said. “Next time, make sure.”

Erant hung his head. “Yes, sir.”

“Yelena will be traveling with us to the Citadel. Treat her as a comrade,” Cahil ordered.

“What about Goel?” asked Captain Marrok.

Cahil looked at me. “Tell him where Goel is.”

“You’ll keep Goel on a leash?” I asked. There was no doubt in my mind that Goel’s desire for revenge would cause trouble. I shuddered at the thought of being at his mercy.

“Captain Marrok, explain the situation to Goel. Before you free him, make sure he gives his word not to harm Yelena.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Unless I give him permission,” Cahil added, staring at me. “Trouble will get you in chains. Treason will get you Goel.”

A rumble of appreciation rolled through Cahil’s men. His little show had earned him points in their minds. I gave him a bored look. I had been threatened many times before and had learned that the men who didn’t make verbal threats were the most dangerous. With that thought, I searched the campsite for Leif. Perhaps he had returned home now that I had delivered myself to Cahil.

I gave Marrok the key to the manacles and instructions as to where to find Goel and his pack. As the Captain left to free him, the rest of the guards began breaking down the campsite. Cahil’s men kept a wary eye on me. A couple of hostile glares were thrown my way, especially when they discovered the rip in the tent’s fabric.

While waiting for the Captain and Goel to return, I sorted and organized my backpack. I combed and braided my hair, then twisted the long braid up into a bun, using my lock picks to hold the hair in place. It never hurt to be prepared. Cahil might trust me not to cause trouble, but he still believed I was a northern spy.

Goel returned with Marrok and Leif. I was surprised to see Leif, but not surprised by the seething glower on Goel’s face. His cheeks had deep red marks where the gag’s strap had pressed into his skin. His hair and clothes were unkempt. Wetness stained his pants and his skin was blotchy from multiple mosquito bites. Goel gripped his sword, starting toward me.

Captain Marrok intercepted Goel and pointed across the clearing to a bedroll still lying on the ground. Goel sheathed his sword and headed to the sleeping mat, shooting me a look of venom.

I resumed breathing. Once the camp was packed, Cahil mounted his horse and led us to the forest trail. I stayed close to Marrok in case Goel forgot his promise again.

The Captain grinned at me and said, “Watch now.”

Cahil clicked at his horse as he tapped his heels into the animal’s sides. The horse increased its stride, and the men began to jog.

“Keep up,” Marrok said.

I hadn’t run laps since training with Ari and Janco, but I had found some time to exercise while traveling south. Matching Marrok’s pace, I asked, “Why does he make you run?”

“Keeps us battle ready.”

I had more questions, but I saved my breath, concentrating instead on staying with Marrok. By the time we reached the next campsite, my field of vision had shrunk to a small area on the Captain’s back. My efforts to stay in shape hadn’t been enough. When we stopped, I labored for air, sucking in huge mouthfuls. Leif, too, seemed winded. Hasn’t run with his friends for a while, I thought peevishly.

Once the camp was erected, Cahil offered to let me sleep in the corner of his tent again. There, I collapsed to the ground without bothering to spread my cloak. In the morning, I ate a light breakfast.

The next three days mirrored the first day of traveling with Cahil, but by the end of the fourth day, I wasn’t as exhausted. I could eat dinner, and even stayed by the fire for a while. Goel glared at me whenever I met his eye, so I ignored him. Leif pretended I didn’t exist.

I began to think the forest was endless. Day after day we covered many miles, yet met no one on the trail, nor saw any sign of a village. I suspected Cahil avoided the towns. I couldn’t be sure if it was for my benefit or his.

Eventually, the men got used to my presence. They bantered and kidded with each other, and practiced sword fighting. The wary glances disappeared, and my arrival at the campfire no longer caused an immediate hush. I found it interesting that the men always sought Captain Marrok’s approval prior to doing anything.

After we’d been traveling for seven days, Captain Marrok surprised me. Some of the guards were performing self-defense drills, and he invited me to join them.

“We could use the practice against that staff of yours,” he said.

I agreed, showing the men some basic defense moves with my bow. While they used their wooden swords, I demonstrated the advantages of having a longer weapon. My participation in the practice drew Cahil’s attention. He usually showed no interest in the training sessions, preferring instead to talk to Leif about his quest to conquer Ixia, but now he approached to watch.

“Wood against wood is fine for practice, but wood against steel is no contest in a real fight,” Cahil said. “A sharp sword would reduce that staff to splinters.”

“The edges are the sword’s danger zone. The trick is to avoid the edges,” I said.

“Show me.” Cahil drew his sword.

The thick blade extended about three and a half feet from the hilt. An impressive weapon, but heavy. Cahil would need two hands to wield it, slowing him down.

I concentrated on the feel of the bow’s wood in my hands, setting my mind into my mental fighting zone.

He lunged forward. Surprised by his quickness, I jumped back. Cahil held the sword one-handed, and I found myself on the defensive. He had some skill with his weapon, but not much. When he swung the massive blade, I dodged, stepped in close, and struck the flat of his sword with my bow. The next time he swung I hit his hand. When he lunged, I kept my bow horizontal and brought it down on the flat tip of the blade, deflecting the weapon toward the ground. My counterstrikes wouldn’t disarm him, but all the while, I kept moving, forcing Cahil to chase me.

When he grabbed his sword with both hands, I knew he was beginning to tire. It was just a matter of time before he made a tactical error.

Our match lengthened. His men cheered for him, urging him to take me out. They didn’t notice the sheen of sweat on Cahil’s forehead, or hear the rasp of his breath.

Soon enough, he swung too wide. I ducked in close, and tapped my bow on his ribs. “Have I proven my point?” I asked, dancing past his next attack.

Cahil stopped. “It’s getting late. We’ll have to finish this later,” he said. Sheathing his sword, he marched off to his tent.

Practice was over. His men were quiet as they put away their equipment.

I sat by the campfire, waiting until Cahil had a chance to cool down. Captain Marrok sat next to me.

“You proved your point,” he said.

I shrugged. “With a lighter sword, Cahil would have won.”

We stared at the flames in silence.

“Why does he carry that sword?” I asked Marrok.

“It was the King’s. We managed to smuggle it south with Cahil.”

I studied Marrok. His face had that worn leather look of a man who has been around for a long time and seen it all. I realized his skin was tanned from the sun and wasn’t a natural pigmentation. “You’re from the north.”

He nodded and gestured to the men. “We all are.”

I studied the men. They were a mixed crew of dark-and light-skinned. And I remembered that, before the takeover, the border between Ixia and Sitia had been just a line on the map, and people from both countries mingled freely.

Marrok continued, “We’re the soldiers who weren’t important enough to assassinate, nor willing to switch our loyalties to the Commander. Goel, Trayton, Bronse and I were all part of the King’s guards.” Marrok shoved a twig into the fire. Sparks flew up into the night sky. “We couldn’t save the King, but we saved his nephew. We raised him, and taught him everything we know. And,” he stood, “we plan to give him a kingdom.” Marrok barked orders to the men, and then headed to his bedroll.

Weariness settled over me. My eyes grew heavy and I dragged myself to my corner of the dark tent.

Just before I fell asleep, the tent brightened. I felt a presence near me. My eyes snapped open. Cahil loomed over me with his sword in his hand. Anger pulsed from him in waves.

9

I STOOD SLOWLY AND STEPPED back from Cahil. “You humiliated me in front of my men,” he said in anger.

“You asked me to show you how a bow could defend against a sword. I was only doing what you wanted.”

“It wasn’t an honest match.”

“What?”

“Leif said you used magic during the fight. That you made me tired.”

I suppressed my anger and looked Cahil straight in the eye. “I did not.”

“Then what did?”

“Do you really want to know why you lost?” I asked.

“Do you really have an answer?” he countered.

“You need to get off your horse and run with your men. You don’t have the stamina for a long fight. And find a lighter sword.”

“But it was my uncle’s.”

“You’re not your uncle.”

“But I’m the King, and this is the King’s sword,” Cahil said. His brows creased together. He seemed confused.

“So wear it to your coronation,” I said. “If you use it in battle, you’ll be wearing it to your funeral,” I said.

“You believe I’ll be crowned?”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“I would have beaten you with my bow. That sword is too heavy for you.”

“I always win against my men.”

I sighed. Of course his men wouldn’t beat him. I tried another tactic. “Have you been in a battle?”

“Not yet. We’re in training. And besides, a King doesn’t risk himself during a battle. I stay in the base camp and direct the combat.”

His comment didn’t sound right to me, but, then again, I had no experience with warfare. Instead, I said, “Think about it, Cahil. Your men raised you. They want to reclaim the throne. But do they want it for you or for themselves? Exile in the south isn’t as glamorous as being the King’s guards.”

Cahil snorted with disdain, shaking his head. “You know nothing. Why would you care? You’re a spy. You’re just trying to confuse me.” He returned to his cot.

Cahil was right. I didn’t care. Once we reached the Keep and I proved my innocence, I wouldn’t have to bother with him again. Leif, on the other hand, had interfered with me one too many times.

I scanned the tent. My brother’s cot was empty.

“Where’s Leif?” I asked.

“Gone.”

“Where?”

“I sent him ahead to notify the Keep of our arrival. Why?”

“Family business.” I spat the words out.

Cahil must have seen the murderous glint in my eyes. “You can’t hurt him.”

“Oh, yes, I can. He’s caused me a lot of trouble.”

“He has my protection.”

“Is that one of the benefits of being a member of your quest for the north?”

“No. When we captured you and Leif, I gave him my word that no harm would come to him in exchange for his full cooperation in dealing with you.”

I blinked at Cahil. Had I heard him right? “But Leif set me up.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I thought letting you believe you had been betrayed by your own brother would demoralize you. However, it seems to have had the opposite effect.”

Cahil’s plan might have worked if Leif and I had had a relationship. I rubbed my face as I tried to decide if knowing the truth changed my opinion about Leif.

Sitting on the edge of his cot, Cahil studied me in silence.

“If Leif didn’t set me up, then who did?”

Cahil smiled. “I can’t reveal my sources.”

Leif had managed to convince many Zaltanas that I was a spy, so the entire clan was suspect. Anyone at the Illiais Market could have overheard our destination, as well.

I couldn’t worry about it now, but I wouldn’t forget it, either. “You said you sent Leif to the Keep,” I said. “Will we be there soon?”

“Tomorrow afternoon; about an hour after Leif arrives. I want to make sure we’re met by the right people,” Cahil said. “An important day, Yelena. Better get some sleep.” He blew out the lantern.

I reclined on my cloak, wondering about the Citadel and Keep. Would Irys be there by tomorrow? Doubtful. I stretched my awareness out, seeking Irys but only encountering wildlife. Without Irys at the Keep would the First Magician peel away the layers of my mind? Apprehension churned inside my stomach. I would rather face Goel than the unknown. Eventually, though, I slept.

Dark dreams of Reyad swirled in my mind.

“Same story, Yelena,” Reyad’s ghost said, laughing and taunting. “No options. No friends. But you have a knife. Again.”

An image of Reyad wrapped in blood-soaked sheets flashed in my dreams. The killing wound in his neck was the result of my desire to protect myself and the other kidnapped children from torture and mindless slavery.

“Will you cut another’s throat to save yourself?” he asked. “How about your own?”

I woke to the sound of crying and realized with horror that my face was wet. Brushing away the tears, I resolved not to let my doubts plague me. Reyad’s ghost might haunt my dreams, but I wouldn’t allow him to haunt my life.

Morning dawned with the smell of sweet cakes, and I joined the men by the fire for breakfast. After we ate, Cahil’s men packed up the camp. Their mood was light and their banter friendly, so I was caught off guard when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Before I could move, the grip tightened, causing pain. I turned my head. Goel stood behind me.

He dug his fingers deeper into my flesh as he whispered in my ear. “I promised not to hurt you while we traveled to the Citadel. Once there, you’re mine.”

I rammed my elbow into Goel’s stomach. He grunted. I stepped forward and knocked his hand off my shoulder with my arm as I spun. Facing him, I asked, “Why warn me?”

He drew in a deep breath and grinned. “Your anticipation will make the hunt more exciting.”

“Enough talk, Goel. Let’s do it now.”

“No. I want time to play. I have all kinds of games planned for when I have you, my sweet.”

My body shook with an icy chill of revulsion. Goose bumps covered my skin. It was a sensation I never thought I would feel in the sweltering south.

“Goel, help take down the tent,” Captain Marrok ordered.

“Yes, sir.” Goel walked away, glancing back at me with a smirk on his face and a promise in his eyes.

I let my breath out slowly. This didn’t bode well.

When the men finished breaking camp, Cahil mounted his horse and we set off through the forest. After several hours, the trees thinned as the trail ascended a hill. At the top of the rise, a vast valley, bisected by a long dirt road, spread out in front of us. Farm fields etched geometric shapes on the left side of the road. An immense plain dominated the landscape on the right side. Across the vibrant valley was another ridge, and I could just make out a white fortress spanning its crest.

“Is that the Citadel?” I asked Marrok.

He nodded. “Another half day’s march.” His gray eyes slid to the right as if searching for something.

I followed his gaze and watched the long grass stalks sway in the breeze. “Daviian Plateau?”

“No. That’s farther southeast,” Marrok said. “This is the edge of the Avibian Plains. The plain is huge. It takes ten days to cross it.”

“My cousin mentioned traveling through a plain on the way to the Citadel, but we’re really just skirting it.”

“Crossing Avibian is a shortcut. Zaltanas will cross, but everyone else avoids contact with the Sandseed Clan who calls the plains home. Taking the forest route is the long way, but it’s safe.”

I wanted to ask more, but Cahil increased the pace as we descended into the basin. He was either eager to reach the Citadel or anxious to put the plains behind him.

We passed laborers working in the farm fields, and a caravan of merchants with their horse-drawn wagons loaded with goods. Nothing but the tall grass moved in the plains.

The Citadel grew massive in appearance as we traveled closer. We stopped only once to water the horse and the men.

When we reached the towering gates, I was awed by the sheer size of the outer bulwark. Green veins streaked the white marble walls. I ran a hand along them, finding it smooth and cool despite the blistering heat. I had thought it was hot in the forest, but that had been nothing compared to being fully exposed to the searing sun.

The two guards at the Citadel’s open gates approached Cahil. After a brief conversation, Cahil led us into a courtyard. I squinted in the bright sunlight. The majestic sight before me took a while to sink in. An entire town resided within the Citadel’s outer walls. All the structures were made of the same white marble with veins of green that comprised the outer wall. I had visualized the Citadel as one large building, like the Commander’s castle in Ixia, but this was far beyond anything I could have imagined.

“Impressed?” Marrok asked.

I closed my mouth and nodded. Our party began to walk through the streets and I realized the place was deserted. “Where is everyone?” I asked Marrok.

“The Citadel’s a ghost town during the hot season. The Council is in recess, the Keep is on holiday and only a skeleton crew tends the crops. Everyone who can flees to the cooler climates, and those who are left retreat inside at midafternoon to avoid the sun.”

I didn’t blame them. My scalp felt as if it were on fire. “How much longer?” I asked.

“Another hour,” Marrok said. “See those four towers?” He pointed to the east. “That’s the Magician’s Keep.”

I stared at their height, wondering what dwelled in those lofty chambers.

We trudged on through the empty streets. The road surface alternated between packed dirt and cobblestones. I spotted dogs, cats and a few chickens crouched in bits of shade. When we neared a large square structure with multiple tiers, Marrok said, “That’s Council Hall where the Sitian government has its offices and conducts meetings.”

The building had long steps that stretched the entire length beneath the first floor and led up to a grand entrance. Jade colored columns bracketed the doorway. A group of people huddled in the Hall’s shadow. They approached us as we walked past. A strong odor of urine emanated from them. Filth matted their hair and covered their tattered attire.

One man reached out with a soot blackened hand. “Please, sir, spare a coin?”

Cahil’s men ignored them and kept walking. The group followed along, determined.

“Who are…?” I started to ask, but Marrok didn’t slow. I tried to catch up, but a small boy pulled on my arm. His brown eyes were rimmed with sores and streaks of dirt lined his cheeks.

“Lovely lady, please. I’m hungry,” the boy said. “Spare a copper?”

I glanced around for Marrok. He was half a block away. I couldn’t understand why this boy needed money, but I couldn’t refuse those eyes. I dug into my pack and pulled out the Sitian coins Esau had given me. I dumped all of them into his palm.

Kneeling down to his level, I said, “Share these with your friends. And take a bath. Okay?”

A joyful expression lit his face. “Thank—”

Before he could finish we were engulfed by a strong stench as the others surrounded us. They grabbed my arms, pulled at my clothes and yanked on my backpack. I saw the boy pocket the coins and slid out of the melee between the others’ legs. The putrid smell of so many unwashed bodies made me gag.

“Lovely lady. Lovely lady,” filled my ears until their words were cut off by the clatter of hooves on the cobblestones.

“Get away from her,” Cahil yelled. He brandished his sword in the air. “Go. Or I’ll cut you in half.”

In a heartbeat, the crowd disappeared.

“Are you all right?” Cahil asked.

“Yes.” I smoothed my hair and reshouldered my pack. “What was that about?”

“Beggars. Filthy street rats.” A look of disgust darkened his face. “It was your fault. If you hadn’t given them money, they would have left you alone.”

“Beggars?”

My confusion seemed to amaze Cahil. “Surely you know what beggars are?” When I didn’t answer, he continued, “They don’t work. They live on the streets. They beg for money for food. You had to see them in Ixia,” he said with frustration.

“No. Everyone in Ixia has a job. Basic necessities are provided to all by the Commander’s military.”

“How does he pay for it?”

Before I could answer, Cahil’s shoulders drooped. “With my uncle’s money. He has probably drained the treasury dry.”

I bit back my reply. As far as I was concerned, better to have the money helping people than covering the floor of some treasury.

“Come on.” Cahil took his foot out of the stirrup, reached down, and held out his hand. “We need to catch up to the others.”

“On the horse?” I asked.

“Don’t tell me they don’t have horses in the north.”

“Not for me,” I said as I placed my foot in the stirrup and grabbed his arm. He pulled me into the saddle. I sat behind him, not sure what to do with my arms.

Cahil turned slightly. “For who then?”

“The Commander, Generals and high-ranking officers.”

“Cavalry?” Cahil asked.

He was fishing for information. I suppressed a sigh. “Not that I saw.” The truth, but I ceased to care if he believed me or not.

Cahil craned his head around and studied my face. A wave of heat enveloped me; I suddenly felt too close to him. His eyes sparked a bluish-green color like the water in the sunlight. And I found myself wondering why he wore a beard in such a hot climate. I imagined Cahil without his beard. He would look younger, and it would be easier to see his smooth, tanned skin and hawklike nose.

When he turned back, I shook my head. I wanted nothing more to do with him.

“Hold on,” he said. Then he clicked his tongue.

The horse began to move. I clutched Cahil’s waist as I bounced in the saddle. The ground seemed so far down and looked so hard. I fought to keep my balance as we caught up to his men. When we passed them, I relaxed, assuming he would stop and let me off. But we kept going, and the men ran behind.

As we wound our way through the Citadel, I focused on the horse beneath me, trying to find a rhythm for my body to match the horse’s like Cahil seemed to be doing. He crouched above the saddle, while my legs pounded the leather. I concentrated on the horse’s movement and suddenly found myself looking out of the horse’s eyes.

The road wrapped around like I was inside a bubble. I could see far forward as well as to each side, and almost all the way behind. The horse was hot and tired, and he wondered why there were two people on his back. Peppermint Man was the only one who usually rode him. But sometimes Straw Boy took him out for exercise back home. He longed for his cool quiet stall filled with hay and a bucket of water.

Water soon, I thought to the horse. I hoped. What’s your name? I asked.

Topaz.

I marveled at our communication. Contact with other animals had only given me a glimpse through their eyes and a hint of their desires. I never had an actual conversation with an animal before.

My back began to ache. Smoother? I asked. Topaz changed his gait. Cahil grunted in surprise, but I exhaled with relief. It was as if I rode on a sled down a snow-covered hill.

With the new gait, we moved faster, and the men fell farther behind us. Cahil tried to slow Topaz down, but the horse was determined to get his water.

We reached the base of a tall tower and stopped in the shade. Cahil jumped down from the horse and inspected Topaz’s legs.

“I’ve never seen him do that before,” Cahil said.

“Do what?”

“He’s a three-gaited horse.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he knows how to trot, canter and gallop.”

“So?”

“So that wasn’t one of his gaits. Some horses can do up to five, but I’m not even sure what that was.”

“It was smooth and fast. I liked it,” I said.

Cahil looked at me with suspicion.

“How do I get down?” I asked.

“Left foot in the stirrup. Swing your right leg back around to the left, then hop off.”

I landed on wobbly legs. Topaz swung his head and looked at me. He wanted water. I took one of Topaz’s water bags off the saddle and held it open for him. Cahil narrowed his eyes at me, then at his horse.

“Is this Magician’s Keep?” I asked to distract Cahil.

“Yes. The entrance is around the corner. We’ll wait for my men, then go in.”

It didn’t take long for his men to catch up. We walked to the Keep’s entrance, where high scalloped arches framed the massive marble doors. Pink columns supported the arches that spanned two stories. The gates stood open, and we entered without any resistance from the guards.

Inside was a courtyard and beyond that was a collection of buildings. Another city within the city. I couldn’t believe the sizes and colors. A patchwork of different-colored marble formed the structures. Statues of various animals peeked out from corners and roofs. There were gardens and lawns. My eyes were relieved to view the greenery after enduring the white glare of the Citadel’s walls.

I could see that the Keep’s thick outer wall formed a rectangle that enclosed the entire area. A tower occupied each of the four corners.

Directly opposite the entrance, two figures stood on the steps that led up to the largest structure. Small blocks of peach marble dotted the predominately yellow-colored building. As we drew closer, I realized the figures were Leif and a tall woman. She wore a sleeveless midnight-blue dress that fell to her ankles. Her feet were bare and her white hair was cropped close to her head. Sunlight disappeared into her almost black skin.

When we reached the base of the steps, Cahil handed the horse’s reins to Marrok. “Take him to the stables and then unpack. I’ll meet you in the barracks.”

“Yes, sir,” Marrok said, turning to go.

“Marrok,” I said. “Make sure you give Topaz some milk oats.”

He nodded and moved on.

Cahil squeezed my arm. “How do you know about milk oats?”

I thought fast. “Cahil, I’ve been traveling with you for over a week I’ve helped feed him.” True to a point, but I didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell Cahil that his horse had asked me for some milk oats. And I was certain he didn’t want to know that his own horse called him Peppermint Man.

“You’re lying. Milk oats are a special treat that the Stable Master bakes. He feeds them to the horses, no one else.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but a strident voice interrupted, “Cahil, is something wrong?”

Together we glanced at the woman. She and Leif were descending toward us.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Cahil said.

They stopped a few steps above us.

“Is this her?” the woman asked.

“Yes, First Magician,” Cahil said.

“Are you certain about her allegiance to Ixia?” she asked.

“Yes. She carries an Ixian uniform and has Ixian coins,” Cahil said.

“Her loyalty and longing for Ixia tastes thick like a rancid soup,” Leif said.

The woman stepped closer to me. I looked into her amber eyes. They were shaped like a snow cat’s and were just as lethal. Her gaze expanded, encompassing me and my world disappeared as the ground turned to rippling amber liquid. I began to sink. Something circled my ankles, and then pulled me under the surface. My clothes were stripped away, then my skin, then my muscles. My bones dissolved until there was nothing left but my soul.

10

SOMETHING SHARP SCRATCHED my soul, searching for vulnerable spots. I pushed away the intrusive object and began to build a wall of defense in my mind. This magician would not reach me.

Bricks formed and stacked, but they crumbled at the edges. Holes drilled through as I struggled to stay ahead of First Magician. I poured all my strength into that wall. I patched the holes. I added another wall within the first. But the bricks disintegrated and collapsed.

Damn it! No! I scrambled for a while, but it was just a matter of time. In the end, I let the wall dissolve. But, with a sudden rush of energy, I created a curtain of green-veined marble, cutting her off.

I pressed myself to the smooth stone and held on with all my might. Exhaustion pulled at my mind. In pure desperation, I used the last of my power, calling for help. The marble transformed into a statue of Valek. He looked at me in concern.

“Help,” I said.

He wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. “Anything, love.”

With nothing left, I clung to him as darkness descended.

I awoke in a narrow room; my head throbbing. Looking up at the ceiling, I realized that I was on a bed. It had been pushed against a wall under an open window. When I moved to sit up, my stif flegs protested. I felt raw and violated as though someone had scrubbed off my skin. My throat blazed with thirst. A pitcher of water sweated on a night table, an empty glass beside it. I poured a large drink and downed the cool liquid in three gulps. Feeling a little better, I examined the room. An armoire stood along the opposite wall with a full-length mirror on the right and a doorway on the left.

Cahil appeared in the doorway. “I thought I heard you.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“First Magician tried to read your mind,” Cahil said. He looked embarrassed. “She was extremely annoyed by your resistance, but she did say you weren’t a spy.”

“Peachy.” Sarcasm rendered my voice sharp. I crossed my arms over my chest. “How did I get here?”

Splotches of red spread on his cheeks. “I carried you.”

I hugged myself. The thought of being touched by him made my skin crawl. “Why did you stay?”

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Now you’re concerned about me? I find that hard to believe.” I stood on sore legs. They felt as if I had run too many laps, and my lower back ached. “Where am I?”

“In the student’s quarters. Apprentice wing. You’ve been assigned these rooms.”

Cahil retreated into the other room. I followed him into a small sitting area with a large desk, a couch, table and chairs and a marble fireplace. The walls were made of light green marble. My pack rested on the table with my bow.

There was another door. I crossed the room and opened it. Beyond the threshold was a garden courtyard with trees and statues. Through them I could see the setting sun. I stepped outside, glancing around. My rooms were at the end of a long one-story building. No one was in sight.

Cahil joined me outside. “The students will be back at the start of the cooling season.” He pointed to a path. “That leads to the dining hall and classrooms. Want me to give you a tour?”

“No,” I said, going back into the sitting room. I turned around in the doorway. “I want you and your toy soldiers to leave me the hell alone. Now you know I’m not a spy, stay the hell away from me.” I closed the door and locked it, leaving Cahil outside. Just to be safe, I wedged a chair under the doorknob.

I curled up on the bed. The desire to go home racked my body. Home to Valek. To his strength and his love. Just that brief contact with him made me miss him even more. His absence left an emptiness that burned deep inside me.

I wanted to leave Sitia. I had gained enough control of my magic to avoid a flameout. I didn’t need to be here with these horrible people. All I had to do was head north, and I would reach Ixia’s border. I planned the journey in my mind, making a list of provisions, and even considered horse-napping Topaz to make my escape. When the room grew dark, I fell asleep.

When the sun woke me, I rolled onto my other side, weighed my chances of escaping the Keep without anyone knowing, and realized I knew nothing of the layout of the Keep. I could make a reconnaissance of the area, but I had no desire to see anyone or be seen. So, I stayed in bed all day and went back to sleep that night.

Another day passed. Someone rattled the doorknob then knocked, calling out to me. I shouted for them to go away, and was content when they did.

Eventually, I lay in a stupor. My mind floated and reached some creatures in the garden. I flinched away from even that light contact, seeking a peaceful place.

Then I found Topaz. Peppermint Man had come to visit, but the horse wondered where Lavender Lady was. I saw a picture of me in Topaz’s mind. Lavender Lady must be the name he had given me. It was funny that Topaz called me Lavender Lady. Traveling with Cahil left little time for bathing, but I had managed to find some privacy to freshen up and apply a few drops of my mother’s Lavender perfume.

Go smooth and fast, Topaz thought.

Would you take me far away to the north? I asked.

Not without Peppermint Man. Smooth and fast with you both. I am strong.

You are very strong. Perhaps I’ll stay with you.

No, you won’t, Yelena. You’ve sulked enough, Irys’s voice said in my mind. Her contact was like a thick cool salve rubbed on an open wound.

I’m not sulking.

Then what would you call it? Irys demanded with annoyance.

Protecting myself.

She laughed. From what? Roze barely got through.

Roze?

Roze Featherstone, First Magician. And she’s been in a rage ever since. You’ve weathered worse things, Yelena. What’s the real problem?

I felt helpless and alone with no one to watch my back. But I buried that thought deep, unwilling to share it with Irys. Instead, I ignored her question. Knowing my mentor was back, I rallied. She was the only person I could trust in the Keep.

I’m coming with some food. You will let me in and you will eat. Irys ordered.

Food? Topaz thought hopefully. Apple? Peppermints?

I smiled. Later.

My stomach grumbled. As I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, a wave of dizziness overcame me. I had lost track of the days and I was weak from hunger.

Irys came as promised, carrying a tray laden with fruit and cold meats. She also brought a pitcher of pineapple juice and some cakes. As I ate, she told me about her trip to May’s home. May was the last of the kidnapped girls to find her lost family.

“Five sisters just like her,” Irys said, shaking her head.

I grinned, imagining May’s homecoming. Six girls squealing with delight, laughing and crying as they all talked at once.

“Their beleaguered father wanted me to test all the girls for magical potential. May has some, but I want her to wait another year before coming to the school. The others were still too young.” Irys poured two cups of juice. “I had to cut my visit short when I felt your call for help.”

“When Roze was invading?”

“Yes. I was too far away to assist you, but it seems like you managed on your own.”

“Valek helped me,” I said.

“That’s impossible. I couldn’t reach you. Valek’s not a magician.”

“But he was there and I drew on his strength.”

Unwilling to believe me, Irys shook her head.

I thought about how Irys had found me in the north. “You felt my power when I was in Ixia,” I said. “It’s the same distance for Valek to reach me.”

She shook her head again. “Valek is resistant to magic so I think you used his image as a shield against Roze. When I felt you last year, you had no control over your powers. Uncontrolled bursts of magic cause ripples in the power source. All magicians, anywhere in the world can feel that, but only Master Magicians will know from which direction it comes.”

That worried me. “You felt my call for help when you were at May’s home, though. Was I out of control to be able to reach you at that distance?” Loss of control led to flameout, which led to death for the magician and damaged the power source for all magicians.

She looked startled. “No.” She frowned and stared at the wall, considering. “Yelena, what have you been doing with your magic since I left you?”

I told her about the ambush, the escape and the truce with Cahil.

“So you put all of Cahil’s men into a deep sleep?” she asked.

“Well, there were only twelve. Did I do something wrong? Have I broken your Ethical Code?” There was so much I didn’t know about magic.

Irys snorted, reading my mind. And you wanted to run away with a horse.

“Better than staying here with Cahil and Leif,” I said aloud.

“Those two.” Irys frowned again. “The Master Magicians had a discussion with both of them. Roze is furious that they misled her about you. Cahil actually had the audacity to demand a Council session in the middle of the hot season. He’ll just have to wait until the cooling season. Perhaps he’ll get on the agenda, or perhaps not.” Irys shrugged, seeming unconcerned.

“Would the Sitians go to war for Cahil?” I asked.

“We have no quarrel with the north, but no love for them either. The Council has been waiting for Cahil to mature. If he develops the charisma and strong leadership abilities, his plans to take back Ixia may be supported by the Council.” She cocked her head to the side as if considering the prospect of going to war.

“The trade treaty is the first official contact we’ve had with Ixia in fifteen years,” she explained. “It’s a good beginning. We have always been worried that Commander Ambrose would try to take over Sitia as he did in the north, but he seems content.”

“Would a Sitian army prevail against the north?”

“What do you think?”

“Sitia would have a difficult time. The Commander’s men are loyal, dedicated and well trained. To lose a battle, they would either need to be vastly outnumbered or be vastly outsmarted.”

Irys nodded. “A campaign against them would have to be launched with the utmost care, which is why the Council is waiting. But that is not my concern today. My priority is to teach you magic, and discover your specialty. You’re stronger than I thought, Yelena. Putting twelve men to sleep is no easy task. And having a conversation with a horse…” Irys pulled her hair back from her face and held it behind her head. “If I hadn’t been listening in, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

Irys rose and began to pile the dishes onto the tray. “What you did to Cahil’s men would normally be considered a breech of the Ethical Code, but you acted in self-defense, so it was acceptable.” She paused for a moment. “What Roze did to you was a clear violation of our ethics, but she thought you were a spy. The Code doesn’t apply to spies. All Sitians are united in their intolerance for espionage. The Commander gained power by infiltrating the monarchy and using assassination, so Sitia worries when a spy is uncovered that the Commander is trying to collect enough information to launch another takeover.”

Picking up the tray of dirty plates, Irys said, “Tomorrow, I will show you the Keep and start your training. There are candles and flint in the armoire if you need a light, and there’s firewood behind the building for when it gets cold. I’ve assigned you to the apprentices’ wing because you’re too old for the first-years’ barracks. And I think by the start of school, you’ll be ready to join the apprentice class.”

“What’s the apprentice class?”

“The Keep has a five-year curriculum. Students start the program about a year after they reach maturity. Usually around the age of fourteen their magic has grown to a point where they can direct it. Each year of the Keep’s curriculum has a title. First year, novice, junior, senior and apprentice. You’ll be at the apprentice level, but your schooling will be different since you need to learn about our history and government.” Irys shook her head. “I’ll figure it out before classes start. You’ll probably be with students from different levels, depending on the subject. But don’t worry about that now. Why don’t you unpack and make yourself at home.”

Her words reminded me that I had something for her in my pack. “Irys, wait a moment,” I said before she could leave. “My mother sent you some perfume.” I dug into my bag. By some stroke of luck, the bottles hadn’t been damaged during the trip to the Citadel. I gave Irys the Apple Berry perfume, and put my bottle of Lavender on the table.

Irys thanked me and left. After she was gone, the room felt empty. Taking everything out of my backpack, I hung my old uniform in the armoire and decorated the table with the valmur statue I had bought for Valek, but the rooms still seemed bare. I would ask Irys to exchange my Ixian money. Perhaps I could purchase a few things to brighten up the place.

I found Esau’s field guide at the bottom of my pack. Taking a candle into the bedroom, I read his book until my eyes grew heavy. From his vast notes, it seemed that almost every plant and tree in the jungle had a reason for existing. I caught myself wishing there was a page in his guide that had my picture on it with the reason for my existence written underneath in Esau’s neat hand.

In the morning, Irys scrunched up her nose when she entered my rooms. “Perhaps I’ll show you the bathhouse first. We’ll send your clothes to the laundry and get you some fresh ones.”

I laughed. “Bad?”

“Yes.”

Irys and I went to another marble building with blue columns all around. The bathhouse had separate pools for men and women. Washing the road grime from my skin felt wonderful. The laundry mistress took my tattered and stained clothes. Nutty’s outfit, my white shirt and black pants all needed mending.

I borrowed a light green cotton tunic and khaki-colored pants. Irys told me the Keep had no particular dress code for classes and everyday events, but special functions required an apprentice robe.

After I combed and plaited my hair, we walked to the dining room for breakfast. Gazing around the Keep, I could see a pattern in the inner layout. Paths and gardens wound their way past marble buildings of various size and shape. Barracks and student housing ringed the main campus. The stables, laundry and kennels lined the back wall of the Keep. Horses grazed in a large fenced pasture next to an oval training yard.

I asked Irys about the four towers.

“The Master Magicians live in them.” She pointed to the one in the northwest corner. “That one is mine. The one in the northeast corner near the stables is Zitora Cowan’s, Third Magician. The southwest one is Roze Featherstone’s, and the southeast one is Bain Bloodgood’s, Second Magician.”

“What if you have more than four Masters?”

“In the history of the Magician’s Keep, we have never had more than four. Less, yes, but never more. It would be a wonderful problem to have. The towers are huge so there would be plenty of room to share.” She smiled.

Three people sat in the dining room. Rows and rows of empty tables lined the long room.

“When school starts, these tables will be filled with students, teachers and magicians. Everyone eats here,” Irys explained.

She introduced me to the two men and one woman eating breakfast. Gardeners on break, they were just a small part of the vast force needed to tend the landscaping.

We ate, I pocketed an apple for Topaz and Irys took me to her chambers. After climbing what seemed like a million steps and passing ten levels of rooms, we emerged at the top. The circular room’s windows stretched from floor to ceiling. Curtains, long and lacy, blew in the hot breeze. Colorful cushions and couches in blues, purples and silver decorated the bright area. The place was ringed with bookshelves, and the air held a fresh citrus scent.

“My meditation room,” Irys said. “The perfect environment to draw power and to learn.”

I walked around, looking outside. She had a magnificent view of the Keep and, through the northeast facing windows, I could see rolling green hills pockmarked with small villages.

“That’s part of the Featherstone Clan’s lands,” Irys said, following my gaze. She gestured to the center of the room. “Sit down. Let’s begin.” Irys sat on a purple cushion, crossing her legs.

I perched on a blue pillow across from her. “But my bow…”

“You won’t need your bow. I’ll teach you how to draw your power without relying on physical contact. The power source surrounds the world like a blanket. You have the ability to take a thread from this cloth, pull it into your body and use it. But don’t take too much or you’ll bunch up the blanket, warping the source and leaving some areas bare and others with too much power. It’s rumored that there are places where there are holes in the blanket, areas of no power, but I haven’t found any.”

I felt her power spread from her like a bubble. She raised her hand and said, “Venettaden.”

The power slammed into me. My muscles froze solid. I stared at her in a growing panic.

“Push it away,” she said.

I considered my brick wall, but knew it was no match for her strength. Once again, I drew down my marble curtain and severed the flow of power. My muscles relaxed.

“Very good,” she said. “I took a line of power and shaped it into a ball. Then, using a word and a gesture, I directed it toward you. We teach the students words and gestures for learning purposes, but really you can use anything you want. It just helps focus the power. And after a while you won’t need to use the words to perform the magic. It becomes instinctive. Now, your turn.”

“But I don’t know how to pull a thread of power. I just concentrate on the feel of my bow’s wood and then my mind somehow detaches and I project it out to other minds. Why does that work?”

“The ability to read thoughts is another thread of power linking two minds, forging a connection. Once the link is made, it remains there and reconnecting is easy. For example, consider the link between us, and between you and Topaz.”

“And Valek,” I said.

“Yes, Valek, too. Although with his immunity to magic, I think your link with him must be on a subconscious level. Have you ever read his thoughts?”

“No. But I haven’t tried. Somehow I always knew what he was feeling.”

“A survival instinct. That makes sense, considering his position in Ixia, and since he decided if you would live or die on a daily basis.”

“That survival instinct saved me a few times,” I said, remembering my troubles in Ixia. “I would find myself in a tight spot, and suddenly it seemed another person had taken control of my body and impossible things would happen.”

“Yes, but now you have control and you can make those things happen.”

“I’m not so sure—”

Irys raised her hand. “Enough of that. Now concentrate. Feel the power. Pull it to you and hold it.”

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes for good measure. Feeling a little silly, I focused on the air around me, trying to sense the blanket of power. For a while nothing happened. Then, I felt the air thicken and press against my skin. I willed the magic to gather closer. Once the pressure grew intense, I opened my eyes. Irys watched me.

“When you release it toward me, think of what you want the power to do. A word or gesture will help and can be used as a shortcut for the next time.”

I pushed the power, and said, “Over.”

For a moment nothing happened. Then Irys’s eyes widened in shock, and she fell over.

I ran to her. “I’m sorry.”

She peered up at me. “That was odd.”

“Odd how?”

“Instead of pushing me over, your magic invaded my mind, giving me a mental command to fall.” Irys settled herself back on the pillow.

“Try again, but this time think of the power as a physical object like a wall and direct it toward me.”

I followed her directions, but the results were the same.

“It’s an unorthodox method, but it works.” Irys tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s work on your defenses. I want you to deflect my power before it can affect you.”

In a blur of motion she aimed a ball of energy toward me. “Teatottle.”

I jumped back and put my hands up, but I wasn’t fast enough. My world spun. Streaks of color swirled around me before I could position my defenses. I was flat on my back, looking up at the sloped ceiling of the tower. An owl slept on a nest in the rafters.

“You need to keep your defenses up at all times,” Irys said. “You don’t want to be caught unaware. But then again…” Irys smoothed her shirt. “You kept Roze from going deep into your mind.”

I shied away from that subject. “What does Teatottle mean?” I asked.

“It’s a nonsense word,” Irys said. “I made it up. No sense alerting you to what I planned to do. I use those words for attacks and defensive moves. But for practical matters like fire and light, I use real words.”

“I can make fire?”

“If you’re strong enough. But it’s tiring work. Using magic is draining, some types more than others. You seem to be able to connect with other minds without a lot of effort,” Irys said. “Perhaps that is your specialty.”

“What do you mean by specialty?”

“Some magicians can only do certain things. We have magicians who can heal physical injuries and others who can help with mental trauma. Some can move large objects like statues, while others can light fires with minimal effort.” Irys played with the tassels on her cushion. “Sometimes, you’ll find someone who can do two or three things, or a hybrid talent like Leif who can sense a person’s soul. For you, we’ve discovered that not only can you read minds, but you can also influence a person’s or animal’s actions. A rare talent. That’s two abilities.”

“Is that the limit?” I asked.

“No. Master Magicians can do everything.”

“So why is Roze called First Magician and you’re Fourth?”

Irys gave me a tired smile. “Roze is stronger than I am. We can both light fires. While I can only make a campfire, she has the ability to set a two-story structure ablaze.”

I thought about what she had said. “If a magician only has one talent, what do they do when they finish their training?”

“We assign magicians to different towns and cities, depending on what is needed. We try to have a healer in every town at all times. Other magicians cover several towns, traveling from place to place to help with projects.”

“What would I do?” I asked, wondering if a useful place for me existed. But, at the same time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted a useful place in Sitia.

Irys laughed. “It’s too soon to tell. For now you need to practice collecting power and using it. And practice keeping up your defenses.”

“How do I keep my wall up without draining myself?”

“I imagine my defensive wall, which resembles this tower room. I make it solid and strong, and then I make it translucent so I can see out of it, and then I don’t think about it anymore. But when magic is directed toward me, my barrier solidifies and deflects the attack before my consciousness is even fully aware of it.”

I followed her instructions and created an invisible barrier in my mind. Irys tested it at unexpected times throughout the morning and it held. The rest of the time I practiced gathering magic, but, no matter how hard I tried, my magic could only affect two things. Irys and the owl sleeping in the rafters.

Irys’s patience amazed me, and, for the first time since coming to Sitia, I felt hopeful that mastering my powers might be within my abilities.

“That was a good start,” Irys said as lunchtime neared. “Go eat, and then rest this afternoon. We’ll work in the mornings and you can practice and study at night. But tonight you need to see the Stable Master and pick out a horse.”

Did I hear her right? “A horse?”

“Yes. All magicians have horses. Occasionally you’ll be needed somewhere fast. I had to leave my horse, Silk, here during my mission in Ixia. When you called for help, I had to borrow a horse from May’s father. How else do you think I got here so fast?”

I hadn’t even thought about it. I had been so wrapped up in my own misery at the time. Following Irys’s directions, I located the dining hall. I ate lunch then went back to my rooms where I collapsed into bed and fell asleep.

That night after dinner, I sought out the Stable Master. I found him at the end of a row of stalls, cleaning a leather saddle. A small stocky man, his wild brown hair fell past his shoulders like a horse’s mane. When he glared up at me, I suppressed my smile.

“What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?” he asked.

“I’m Yelena. Irys sent me.”

“Oh, right, the new student. I don’t know why Fourth Magician couldn’t wait until everyone’s back to start your lessons,” he muttered to himself as he put the saddle down. “This way.”

He led me past the stable. Topaz poked his head out of his stall.

His big brown eyes looked hopeful. Apple? he asked.

Irys had been right. I reconnected with Topaz without any conscious effort. Or had he connected with me? I would have to ask her about that. I gave him the apple in my pocket.

The Stable Master turned around. “You just made a friend for life,” he said, snorting in amusement. “That horse loves food. I never saw a horse take such pleasure in eating before. You can train him to do just about anything for a peppermint.”

We went past the hay barn to the pasture. The Stable Master leaned against the wooden fence. Six horses grazed in the field.

“Pick one out. Makes no difference which one, they’re all good. I’ll go find your instructor.”

“You don’t teach?” I asked before he could go.

“Not in the middle of the hot season when everyone but me is gone,” he said with annoyance. “I’m too busy mucking out stalls and fixing tack. I said to wait, but Fourth Magician wanted it right away. Good thing one of my instructors came back early.” He mumbled some more as he headed toward the stable.

I studied the horses in the field. Three were dark brown like Topaz, two were black, and one was copper with white on the legs from the knees down. Knowing nothing of horses, I guessed it would come down to color. The copper-and-white horse looked over at me.

Like her, Topaz said. She go smooth and fast for Lavender Lady.

How do I get her to come over? I asked.

Peppermints. Topaz looked lovingly at a leather bag hanging near his stall. The Stable Master had disappeared. I went back to the stable. Taking out two mints, I gave one to Topaz, and took the other back to the field.

Show Kiki peppermint.

I held out the mint. Kiki glanced at the other horses, and then moved toward me. When she came closer, I could see she had a white face with a patch of brown around her left eye. Something about her eyes seemed strange. It wasn’t until she sucked the peppermint from my palm that it struck me. Her eyes were blue. I had never seen that before, but that didn’t mean much. I knew next to nothing about horses.

Scratch behind ears, Topaz suggested.

The mare’s long copper ears were cocked forward. I stood on tiptoes and rubbed my fingernails behind them. Kiki lowered her head and pressed it against my chest.

“What do you think, girl?” I asked out loud. I couldn’t hear her like Topaz. While rubbing her ears, I pulled a thread of power and projected my mind to her. Be with me?

She nudged me with her nose. Yes.

I felt Topaz’s pleasure. We go smooth and fast together.

I jumped when I heard the Stable Master behind me.

“Found one already?” he asked.

I nodded without looking at him.

“That one came from the plains,” he said. “Good choice.”

“She must pick another,” said a familiar voice.

I turned. Dread curled in my stomach. Cahil stood next to the Stable Master.

“And why would I listen to you?” I demanded.

He smirked. “Because I’m your instructor.”

11

“NO,” I SAID. “YOU WILLnot be my instructor.”

“No choice,” said the Stable Master. He glanced at Cahil then me, looking puzzled. “There’s no one else and Fourth Magician insists you start right away.”

“What if I help you muck out the stables and feed the horses? Will you have time to teach me then?” I asked the Stable Master.

“Young lady, you already have plenty to do. You’ll be mucking and caring for your own horse, as well as studying your lessons. Cahil’s been a stable rat since he was six. No one, other than me…” He grinned. “…knows more about horses.”

I planted my hands on my hips. “Fine. As long as he knows more about horses than he does about people.”

Cahil cringed. Good.

“But I keep this horse,” I said.

“She’s a walleye,” Cahil said.

“A what?” I asked.

“She has blue eyes. That’s bad luck. And she’s been bred by the Sandseed Clan. Their horses are difficult to train.”

Kiki snorted at Cahil. Mean Boy.

“A silly superstition and an unfair reputation. Cahil, you should know better,” the Stable Master said. “She’s a perfectly good horse. Whatever’s going on between you and Yelena, you’ll have to work it out. I’ve no time to babysit.” With that, he stalked away, once more muttering to himself.

Cahil and I glared at each other for a while until Kiki nudged my arm, looking for peppermints.

“Sorry, girl, no more,” I said, holding out my empty hand. She tossed her head, and resumed grazing.

Cahil stared at me. I crossed my arms over my chest, but they seemed an inadequate barrier between us. I would have preferred thick marble walls. He had exchanged his traveling clothes for a plain white shirt and tight-fitting jodhpurs, but he still wore his black riding boots.

“You’ll have to live with your decision about the horse. But if you’re going to fight me every time I try to teach you something, let me know now, and I won’t waste my time.”

“Irys wants me to learn, so I’ll learn.”

He appeared satisfied. “Good. First lesson starts now.” He climbed over the pasture’s fence. “Before you learn how to ride a horse, you must know everything about your horse from the physical to the emotional.” Cahil clicked his tongue at Kiki, and when she ignored him, he approached her. Just as he came up beside her she turned, knocking him over with her rump.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Every time he tried to get near, Kiki either moved away or bumped into him.

His face red with frustration, Cahil finally said, “The hell with this. I’m getting a halter.”

“You hurt her feelings when you said she was bad luck,” I explained. “She’ll cooperate if you apologize.”

“How would you know?” Cahil demanded.

“I just know.”

“You didn’t even know how to dismount a horse. I’m not that stupid,” he said.

When he started to climb over the fence, I said, “I know the same way I knew Topaz wanted milk oats.”

Cahil stopped, waiting.

I sighed. “Topaz told me he wanted the treat. I connected with his mind by accident, so I asked him to go smoother because my back hurt. It’s the same with Kiki.”

Cahil pulled at his beard. “The First Magician said you had strong magical abilities. I guess I should have known it before, but I was too focused on the spy thing.” He looked at me as if noticing me for the first time.

For a second, I thought I witnessed cold calculation slide through Cahil’s blue eyes, but it disappeared, leaving me to wonder if I had seen anything at all.

“Her name’s Kiki?” he asked.

I nodded. Cahil returned to Kiki and apologized. I felt a sudden peevish annoyance. He should have been apologizing to me for all the pain he had caused. Spy thing, my ass.

Push Mean Boy? Kiki asked.

No. Be nice. He’s going to teach me to care for you.

Cahil gestured for me to join him near Kiki. I clambered over the fence. As Kiki stood her ground, Cahil pointed to and lectured about the different parts of her body. Starting with her muzzle, he didn’t stop until he had lifted her right back hoof and showed me the underside.

“Same time tomorrow,” he said, ending the lesson. “Meet me in the stable. We’ll go over horse care.”

Before he could head back to the barn, I stopped him. Now that my annoyance that he was my instructor was gone, I wondered why he was here. “Why are you teaching me? I thought your campaign for the Ixian throne would take up most of your time.”

Well aware of how I felt about his quest, Cahil studied me, seeking for signs of sarcasm.

“Until I receive the full support of the Sitian Council, I can only do so much,” he said. “Besides, I need money to pay for my expenses. Most of my men are employed at the Keep as guards or gardeners, depending on what’s needed.” He wiped his hands on his pants, staring at the horses in the pasture. “When the Keep is on hiatus during the hot season, I focus all my efforts on gathering support. This season I thought I would finally get the Council’s backing.” Cahil looked at me. “But that didn’t work out. So I’m back to work and back to begging the Council to put me on their agenda.” He frowned and shook his head. “Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow.” I watched Cahil as he walked to the stable. He had been counting on catching an Ixian spy to influence the Council. I wondered what he would try next.

Kiki nudged my arm and I scratched behind her ears before I returned to my rooms. Rummaging around for some paper, I sat at my desk and drew a crude sketch of a horse. I labeled the parts that I could remember. Topaz and Kiki helped me with the rest.

The connection I had formed with the two horses was odd yet comforting. It was as if we were all in the same room, doing different tasks and minding our own business and having our own private thoughts. But when one of us would “speak” directly to the other, we would “hear” it. I only had to think about Kiki and her thoughts would fill my mind. The same was true with Irys. I didn’t need to pull power and project it to Irys. All I needed to do was think about her.

Over the next week, my days fell into a pattern. Mornings spent with Irys to learn about magic, afternoons spent napping, studying and practicing my self-defense techniques. Evenings were spent with Cahil and Kiki. As I moved throughout the campus, I kept a wary eye out for Goel. I hadn’t forgotten his threat.

Not long into my magical training, Irys began testing me for other abilities.

“Let’s see if you can start a fire,” Irys said one morning. “This time, when you pull in the power, I want you to concentrate on lighting this candle.” She placed a candlestick in front of me.

“How?” I asked, sitting up. I had been reclining on the pillows in her tower room, thinking about Kiki. It had been a week, and I still hadn’t ridden her. So far, Cahil had spent every lesson teaching me about horse care and tack. What an annoying man.

“Think of a single flame before you direct your magic.” Irys demonstrated. “Fire,” she said. The candle flared and burned before she blew it out. “Your turn.”

I focused on the candle’s wick, forming a flaming image in my mind. Pushing magic toward the candle, I willed it to light. Nothing happened.

Irys made a strangled sound and the candle burned. “Are you directing your magic to the candle?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You just ordered me to light the candle for you,” Irys said in exasperation. “And I did it.”

“Is that bad?”

“No. I hope you know how to light a fire the mundane way, because, so far, it seems that’s not part of your magical skills. Let’s try something else.”

I tried to move a physical object with no success. Unless making Irys do it for me could be considered a magical skill.

She raised her mental defenses, blocking out my influence. “Try again. This time focus on keeping control.”

As I pulled in power, Irys threw a pillow at me. The pillow struck me in the stomach. “Hey!”

“You were supposed to deflect it with your magic. Try again.”

By the end of the session, I was glad Irys had chosen a pillow. Otherwise, I would have been covered with bruises.

“I think you just need to practice your control,” Irys said, refusing to give up. “Get some rest. You’ll do better tomorrow.”

Before leaving, I asked something that had been on my mind for several days. “Irys, can I see more of the Citadel? And I need to exchange my Ixian coins for Sitian so I can buy some items and clothes. Is there a marketplace?”

“Yes, but it’s only open one day a week during the hot season.” She paused for a moment, considering. “I’ll give you market days off. No lessons. You can explore the Citadel or do whatever you want. It’ll be open in two days. In the meantime, I’ll exchange your money.”

Irys couldn’t pass up the opportunity to lecture me on spending money wisely. “Your expenses are covered while you’re in the Keep. But once you graduate, you’ll be on your own. You’ll earn wages as a magician, of course,” Irys said. “But don’t give your money away.” She smiled to ease the reprimand. “We don’t like to encourage the beggars.”

The image of the dirty little boy rose in my mind. “Why don’t they have any money?” I asked.

“Some are lazy, preferring to beg instead of work. Others are unable to work because of physical or mental problems. The healers can only do so much. And some gamble or spend their money faster than they can earn it.”

“But what about the children?”

“Runaways, orphans or the offspring of the homeless. The hot season is the worst time for them. Once school starts and the Citadel is populated again, there are places they can go for food and shelter.” Irys touched my shoulder. “Don’t worry about them, Yelena.”

I mulled over Irys’s comments on my way back to my rooms.

That evening, while teaching me to saddle and bridle Kiki in her barn stall, Cahil asked, “What’s gotten into you? You’ve been snapping at me all night.”

Lavender Lady upset, Kiki agreed.

I sucked in a deep breath, preparing to apologize, but an unbidden torrent of words poured from my mouth instead. “You want Ixia so you can be king. So you can collect taxes, sit on a throne and wear a crown of jewels while the people suffer like they did under your uncle. So your henchmen like Goel can kill innocent children when their parents can’t pay the taxes for your fine silk clothes, or so they can kill the parents, leaving their offspring homeless and beggars.” My outburst ended as fast as it had begun.

Cahil gaped in shock, but recovered fast. “That’s not what I want,” he said. “I want to help the people of Ixia. So they have the freedom to wear whatever clothes they want instead of being forced to wear uniforms. So they can marry whomever they want without securing a permit from their district’s General. Live wherever they want, even if it’s in Sitia. I want the crown so I can free Ixia of the military dictatorship.”

His reasons sounded superficial. Would the people be any freer with him as their ruler? I didn’t believe his answer was the real reason. “What makes you think the Ixian people want you to free them? No government is perfect. Did it ever occur to you that the Ixians might be content under the Commander’s rule?” I asked.

“Were you content with your life in the north?” Cahil asked. An intensity held his body rigid while he waited for my response.

“I had unusual circumstances.”

“Such as?”

“None of your business.”

“Let me guess,” Cahil said with a superior tone.

I clutched my arms to keep from punching him.

“A kidnapped southerner with magical abilities? That is unusual. But do you think you were the first person that Fourth Magician had to rescue? Northerners are born with magical powers, too. My uncle was a Master Magician. And you know what the Commander does to anyone found with power.”

Valek’s words echoed in my mind. Anyone found in the Territory of Ixia with magical power was killed. Magicians might be hunted in Ixia, but the rest of the citizens had everything they needed.

“We’re not that different, Yelena. You were born in Sitia and raised in Ixia, and I’m an Ixian raised in Sitia. You have returned home. I’m only trying to find mine.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but snapped it shut when Irys spoke in my mind. Yelena, come to the infirmary right away.

Are you all right? I asked.

I’m fine. Just come.

Where’s the infirmary?

Have Cahil show you. Then her magical energies withdrew.

I told Cahil what Irys required. Without hesitation, he removed Kiki’s saddle and bridle. We hung them in the tack room before we headed for the center of the Keep. I had to jog to keep up with him.

“Did she say what this was about?” he asked over his shoulder.

“No.”

We entered a one-story building. The marble walls were a soothing pale blue, resembling ice. A young man in a white uniform moved about the lobby, lighting lanterns. The sun’s rays had begun to disappear for the day.

“Where’s Irys?” I asked the young man.

He looked puzzled.

Cahil said, “Fourth Magician.”

“She’s with Healer Hayes,” he said, and when we failed to move, the man pointed to a long corridor. “Down the hall. Fifth door on the left.”

“Few call her Irys,” Cahil explained as we hurried down the empty hallway.

We stopped at the fifth one. The door was closed.

“Come in,” Irys called before I could knock.

I opened the door. Irys stood next to a man dressed in white. Healer Hayes perhaps. A figure lay under a sheet spread over a bed in the center of the room. Bandages shrouded the face.

Leif hunched in a chair in the corner of the room, looking horrified. When he spotted me, he asked, “What’s she doing here?”

“I asked her to come. She may be able to help,” Irys said.

“What’s going on?” I asked Irys.

“Tula was found in Booruby near death. Her mind has fled, and we can’t reach her,” Irys explained. “We need to find out who did this to her.”

“I can’t feel her,” Leif said. “The other Master Magicians can’t reach her. She’s gone, Fourth Magician. You’re just wasting time.”

“What happened?” Cahil asked.

“Beaten, tortured, raped,” the healer said. “You name something horrible, and it’s probably been done to her.”

“And she was fortunate,” Irys said.

“How can you call that fortunate?” Cahil demanded. His outrage evident in the sudden tautness of his shoulders, the strident tone in his voice.

“She escaped with her life,” Irys replied. “None of the others were so lucky.”

“How many?” I asked, not really wanting to know, but unable to stop the words.

“She is the eleventh victim. The others were all found dead, brutalized in the same manner.” A look of disgust etched Irys’s face.

“How can I help?” I asked.

“Mental healing is my strongest power, yet you reached the Commander and brought him back when I couldn’t,” she said.

“What?” Cahil cried. “You helped the Commander?”

His outrage focused on me. I ignored him.

“But I knew the Commander. I had an idea of where to look,” I said to Irys. “I’m not sure I can help you.”

“Try anyway. The bodies have been discovered in different towns throughout Sitia. We haven’t been able to find a reason for the killings and we have no suspects. We need to catch this monster.” Irys pulled at her hair. “Unfortunately, this is the kind of situation you will be asked to deal with when you become a magician. Consider this a learning experience.”

I moved closer to the bed. “May I hold her hand?” I asked the healer.

He nodded and pulled the sheet back, revealing the girl’s torso. Between the blood-soaked bandages, her skin looked like raw meat. Cahil cursed. I glanced at Leif; his face remained turned to the wall.

Splinted with pieces of wood, each of the girl’s fingers must have been broken. I gently took her hand, rubbing my fingertips along her palm. Pulling a thread of power, I closed my eyes and projected my energy to her.

Her mind felt abandoned. The sense that she had fled and would never come back filled the emptiness. Gray intangible ghosts floated in her mind. Upon closer examination, each specter represented Tula’s memory of a specific horror. The ghosts’ faces twisted with pain, terror and fear. Raw emotions began to sink into my skin. I pushed the ghosts away, concentrating on finding the real Tula who was most likely hiding some place where her horrors couldn’t reach her.

I felt a sensation along my arms as if long grass tickled my skin. The clean earthy scent of a dew-covered meadow lingered in the air, but I couldn’t follow the source. I searched until my energy became depleted and I could no longer hold the connection.

At last, I opened my eyes. I sat on the floor with the girl’s hand still clutched in mine. “Sorry. I can’t find her,” I said.

“I told you it was a waste of time,” Leif said. He rose from his corner. “What did you expect from a northerner?”

“You can expect me not to give up as easily as you have,” I called before he stalked out of the room.

I frowned at his retreating form. There had to be another way to wake Tula.

The healer took the girl’s hand from mine and tucked it back under the sheet. I remained on the floor as he and Irys discussed the girl’s condition. Her body would heal, they thought, but she would probably never regain her senses. It sounded as though she would be mindless like the children Reyad and Mogkan had created in Ixia when they had siphoned their magical power, leaving behind nothing but empty soulless bodies. I shivered at the memory of how the two evil men had tried to break me.

I brought my mind back to Tula’s problems. How had I found the Commander? He had retreated to the place of his greatest accomplishment. The place where he felt the happiest and in the most control.

“Irys,” I interrupted. “Tell me everything you know about Tula.”

She considered for a moment. I could see questions perched on her lips.

Trust me, I sent to her.

“It’s not much. Her family operates a profitable glass factory right outside Booruby,” Irys said. “This is their busy season, so they keep the kilns going all the time. Tula was to keep the fire hot during the night. The next morning when her father came out to work, the coals were cold and Tula was gone. They searched for many days. She was finally found twelve days later in a farmer’s field barely alive. Our healer in Booruby tended her physical wounds. But her mind was unreachable, so they rushed her here to me.” Irys’s disappointment shone on her face.

“Does Tula have any siblings?” I asked.

“Several. Why?”

I thought hard. “Any close to her age?”

“I think a younger sister.”

“How much younger?”

“Not much. A year and a half maybe.” Irys guessed.

“Can you bring her sister here?”

“Why?”

“With her sister’s help, I might be able to bring Tula back.”

“I’ll send a message.” Irys turned to the healer. “Hayes, let me know if Tula’s condition changes.”

Hayes nodded and Irys marched out the door.

Cahil and I followed. He said nothing as we left the infirmary and stepped into the twilight. With the sun almost gone, the air cooled and a faint breeze touched my face. I sucked in the freshness, trying to dilute the bitter smell of the girl’s horror.

“Pretty bold,” Cahil said, glancing at me. “To think you can reach her when a Master Magician could not.” Cahil strode away.

“Pretty stupid,” I called after his retreating form. “To give up before all possible solutions have been tried.”

Cahil continued to walk without acknowledging my comments. Fine. He had given me another reason to prove him wrong.

12

DREAMS OF TULA’S HIDEOUS ordeal swirled in my mind that night. Over and over, I fought her demons until, at last, they transformed into my own demon’s mocking face. Vivid memories of my own torture and rape at Reyad’s hands haunted my sleep. I awoke screaming. My heart hammered against my chest. My nightshirt was drenched with sweat.

I wiped my face, focusing on reality. There had to be a way to help Tula. Wide-awake, I dressed and went to the infirmary.

In Tula’s room, Healer Hayes slumped half-asleep in a chair. He straightened when I stepped closer to the bed.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No. I wanted to…” I cast about for the right explanation. “Spend some time with her.”

He yawned. “Can’t hurt, and I could use some rest. I’ll be in my office at the end of the hall. Wake me if anything changes.”

I sat in Hayes’s chair and held Tula’s hand. Reestablishing our link, I was once again inside her vacant mind. The ghosts of her horrors flickered past. I studied them, looking for weakness. When Tula came back, she’d have to deal with each of these ghosts, and I planned to help her banish them.

Irys woke me the next morning. I had rested my head on the edge of Tula’s bed.

“Have you been here all night?” she asked.

“Only half.” I smiled, rubbing my eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I understand all too well.” Irys smoothed the sheets on Tula’s bed. “In fact, I can’t stay here doing nothing. I’m going to fetch Tula’s sister myself. Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician has agreed to continue your training while I’m gone. He usually teaches history, and likes to lecture about famous and infamous magicians.” Irys smiled. “He’ll give you a ton of books to read, and will quiz you on them, so be sure to finish each of your assignments.”

Hayes entered the room. “Anything?”

I shook my head.

When he started to change Tula’s bandages, Irys and I left the room.

“I’m leaving this morning,” Irys said. “Before I go, I’ll introduce you to Bain.”

I followed her from the infirmary. We headed toward the large building with the peach-and-yellow marble blocks that was located across from the Keep’s entrance.

The structure housed offices for the Keep’s administrative staff. It contained various-size conference and meeting rooms, and an office for each Master Magician. According to Irys, the Masters preferred to meet with outsiders and officials in these rooms rather than in their towers.

Irys led me into a small meeting room. Four people huddled over a map that was spread open on a conference table. Other maps and charts were hung on the walls.

Of the four, I recognized Roze Featherstone and Leif. Roze wore another long blue dress and Leif wore his customary scowl. Beside them stood an elderly man in a navy robe and a young woman with braided hair.

Irys introduced me to the man. He had curly white hair that stuck out at odd angles.

“Bain, this is Yelena, your student for the next week or so,” Irys said.

“The girl you rescued from the north?” He shook my hand. “Strange mission that.”

A failed mission, Roze’s cold thoughts stabbed my mind. Yelena should have been killed, not rescued. She’s too old to learn.

Yelena’s linked to me. She can hear your thoughts. Irys’s annoyance was clear.

Roze gazed at me with her amber eyes. I don’t care.

Unflinching, I stared back. Your mistake.

Irys stepped between us, breaking our eye contact. “And this is Zitora Cowan, Third Magician,” Irys said, gesturing to the young woman.

Zitora’s honey-brown braids hung to her waist. Instead of shaking my hand, she hugged me.

“Welcome, Yelena,” Zitora said. “Irys tells us you may be able to help us find Tula’s attacker.”

“I’ll try,” I said.

“Tula’s from my clan, so I would appreciate whatever you can do to help her.” Zitora’s pale yellow eyes shone with tears. She turned away.

“As you can see,” Bain said, indicating the room’s contents, “we are trying to deduce the methods and means of this killer. A very cunning and shrewd fellow. Unfortunately, that’s all we know. Perhaps fresh eyes can spot something we missed.” Bain pointed to the map on the table.

“She shouldn’t be here,” Leif said. “She knows nothing about this.”

Before Irys could speak in my defense, I said, “You’re right, Leif, I haven’t dealt with this before because a horror like him would not have survived in Ixia for long.”

“Why don’t you just run back to your precious Commander and your perfect Ixia and keep your nose out of our troubles?” Leif spat the words at me.

I drew breath to counter, but Irys put a warning hand on my sleeve.

“Yelena and Leif, that’s quite enough,” Irys said. “You’re wasting time. Catching this killer is imperative.”

Chastised, I peered down at the map on the table. The Sitian lands were divided into eleven territories, one for each clan. City and town locations were marked, as well as the places where the other girls had been found. Some towns had two victims, while others had none. I failed to see a pattern.

“The only consistency has been in the victims,” Bain said. “All are unmarried females fifteen to sixteen years old. All were missing for approximately twelve to fourteen days. All were taken during the night. Some were stolen right from the very bedrooms they shared with siblings. And no witnesses. None.”

My initial gut feeling indicated that magic had been involved, but I didn’t want to say as much in front of four Master Magicians.

“We have considered a rogue magician,” Irys said. “And while we have confirmed the alibis of the magicians who have graduated from our school, we are unable to question those who have one-trick powers.”

“One-trick?” I asked.

“There are some who have just enough magic to do one thing like light a candle, but are unable to use magic for anything else,” Irys explained. “One-tricks do not come to the Keep, but they normally use their gift in beneficial ways. Some, though, do use their ability for crime. Mostly petty. It’s possible this killer’s one-trick is to turn himself invisible, or be able to walk without making a sound. Something that gives him the upper hand when kidnapping a girl.”

Irys’s face hardened into an expression of serious determination. A look I recognized with a queasy feeling deep in my stomach. She had worn it when she had tried to kill me in Ixia.

“But only for the moment,” she vowed.

“We have not ruled out a rogue magician,” Bain said. “History is full of them. And I include recent history.” He nodded to me. “Some day, you must tell me of the misdeeds of Kangom in Ixia, and how he met his end. I wish to add his folly to the history books.”

Confused at first, it took me a moment to remember that Kangom had changed his name to Mogkan upon fleeing to Ixia.

“Speaking of books,” Bain said to me, “I have some for you in my office.” He turned to Roze. “Are we finished here?”

She gave a curt nod.

The other magicians made to leave, but Zitora stayed by the table, tracing a finger over the map of Sitia.

“Irys?” she asked. “Did you mark Tula’s location?”

“No.” Irys picked up a quill and dipped it into a bottle of red ink. “With all the commotion, I forgot.” She placed a mark on the map and stepped back. “I’ll be back in ten days. Please send word if something happens. Yelena, keep practicing your control.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

Irys smiled then left the room. I glanced down at the map to see how far Booruby was from the Citadel. The red ink had not yet dried. Tula’s town resided on the western edge of the Avibian Plains. I had thought Captain Marrok exaggerated when he had said the plains were huge, but the map showed that the plains dominated the eastern Sitian landscape.

When my eye caught the other red marks, I must have made a sound because Zitora clutched my arm.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A pattern. See?” I pointed to the map. “All the marks are near the border of the Avibian Plains.”

The others returned to the table.

“Fresh eyes,” Bain said, nodding to himself.

“It’s obvious, now that the map’s been updated,” Roze said. Annoyance made her voice sharp.

“Did anyone search the plains when the girls went missing?” I asked.

“No one goes into the plains,” Zitora said. “The Sandseed Clan doesn’t like visitors, and their strange magic can befuddle the mind. It’s best to circumvent them.”

“Only the Zaltanas are welcomed by the Sandseeds,” Roze said. “Perhaps Yelena and Leif could visit and determine if anything is amiss.”

“No need to rush,” Bain said. “Better to wait until Irys returns with Tula’s sister. If Tula awakes and identifies her assailant, we would have the advantage.”

“What if another girl goes missing in the meantime?” Leif asked. His scowl had deepened, and he seemed upset either by the thought of another victim or the prospect of traveling with me again.

“Then, welcome or no, we will send armed searchers into the plains,” Bain said.

“But you might be too late,” I said.

“We have some time.” Zitora pulled at one of her braids. “That was another pattern we were able to discern. He has the victims for two weeks and then waits four weeks before claiming a new one.”

The thought of another victim filled me with dread and led to a horrible scenario. “What if he comes to the Keep to finish what he started? Tula could be in danger!”

“Let him come.” Roze’s voice turned icy with determination. “I will take care of him.”

“First we would have to apprehend him.” Bain tapped the table with a bony finger. “We must post guards in Tula’s room.”

“But it’s the hot season, and we’re short-handed,” Zitora said.

“I will tell Cahil to assign some of his men,” Roze said. “He owes me.”

“Get them right away, Roze,” Bain said. “Not a moment to lose. Come now, Yelena, we have work to do.”

Bain led me out of the room and down the hallway.

“Nice observations, young lady. I see why Irys chose not to kill you.”

“Has Irys ever chosen to kill?” I asked. Cahil’s comment that I had not been the first person Irys had rescued from Ixia weighed on my mind.

“Unavoidable at times. Nasty choice overall, but Irys is well suited to that role. She has a unique ability to cease a heart without pain or fear. Roze has the skill, too, but she’s much too harsh. She works best with criminals and their ilk. Leif helps her with those unfortunate criminal investigations. During his schooling at the Keep, the Masters determined that would be the best use of his unusual power. Zitora, on the other hand, would die rather than harm another. I have never met a sweeter soul.”

Bain stopped to unlock a door. He gestured for me to precede him into his office. Entering the room, I was greeted by a riot of color, a jumble of contraptions and shelves upon shelves of books.

“And you, sir?” I asked. “What place do you hold in this group of magicians?”

“I teach. I guide. I listen.” He stacked books into a pile. “I answer questions. I let the younger magicians go on missions. I tell stories of my eventful past.” Bain smiled. “Whether or not my companions wish to hear them. Now, we’ll start you with these few books.”

He handed me the stack. I counted seven texts. Few? Obviously, my definition of few was different than his. At least most of the books were slim.

“Tomorrow is market day. An extra day for study.” Bain’s voice held a touch of reverence. To him it seemed an extra day to study was similar to receiving a pouch of gold. “Read the first three chapters in each book. We’ll discuss them the day after tomorrow. Come to my tower after breakfast.”

He bustled around a table, looking for something. He pulled a leather pouch from beneath an immense tome. “Yours from Irys.”

The pouch jingled as I opened it. Irys had exchanged my Ixian coins for Sitian.

“How do I find the market?” I asked.

Bain rummaged around his desk until he found a sheet of paper. It was a map of the Citadel.

“Use this.” Bain pointed to the market square located near the center of the Citadel.

“May I keep this?”

“Yours. Now, go. Read.” With the indulgence of a father sending his child off to play, he shooed me out the door.

I read the book titles as I made my way back to my rooms. The Source of Magic; Magical Mutations; The History of Sitian Magic; Master Level Magicians Throughout the Ages; Misuses of the Power Source; The Magician’s Ethical Code, and Windri Bak Green-tree: A Biography.

I had to admit the titles seemed fascinating, so I started my reading assignments as soon as I reached my rooms. The afternoon flew by, and only the incessant growling of my stomach made me stop to find some food.

After dinner, I visited the stables. Topaz and Kiki’s heads appeared over their stall doors the moment I arrived.

Apples? Both horses looked hopeful.

Have I ever come without? I asked.

No. Lavender Lady nice, Topaz said.

I fed Topaz and Kiki their apples. After wiping apple juice and horse slobber from my hands, I realized Cahil was late. Deciding not to wait for him, I took Kiki’s bridle and riding saddle from the tack room.

Practice? Kiki sounded as bored as I by the repetitive lessons.

How about a walk? I asked.

Fast?

No. Slow and steady so I don’t fall off.

I bridled and saddled Kiki without incident, surprising myself with how much I had learned.

Before I could mount, Cahil arrived, his face red, and his beard matted with sweat. He looked as though he had run to the stables. I wondered how far he had run, which led me to wonder where he lived in the Keep, which led me, ultimately, to wonder about his childhood. What had it been like to grow up in the Magician’s Keep without any family?

Cahil, oblivious to my curiosity, inspected every inch of Kiki’s tack. Probably searching for a mistake. I smiled in satisfaction when all he found was a crooked stirrup.

“All right then, since she’s saddled, why don’t you try mounting?” Cahil said, reminding me to always mount on the horse’s left side.

I placed my left foot in the stirrup and grabbed the saddle. When he moved to give me a boost up, I stopped him with a look. Kiki stood at sixteen hands, tall for a horse, but I wanted to mount her without help. Pushing off with my right foot, I launched myself up and swung my leg over the saddle.

Once settled, I looked down at Cahil from what now felt like an uncomfortable height. From this vantage point, the ground at his feet seemed to transform from plush grass to hard and unyielding earth.

Cahil lectured about the reins and the proper way to hold them, and how to sit in the saddle. “If you think you’re going to fall, grab her mane. Not the saddle.”

“Why not?”

“You could pinch a finger. Don’t worry. You won’t hurt the horse.”

Cahil continued to lecture about the correct way to steer the horse and the best way to give stop and go commands. He also repeated his advice to grab Kiki’s mane if I felt myself falling at least a half dozen more times. Eventually, I tuned him out, gazing around the pasture from my new perspective. I admired the way the sun reflected off a stallion’s coat near the far fence, until a change in Cahil’s tone caused Kiki’s ears to cock forward.

“…listening to me?” Cahil demanded.

“What?”

“Yelena, this is very important. If you don’t know how to—”

“Cahil,” I interrupted. “I don’t need commands. All I have to do is ask Kiki.”

He stared at me as if I had spoken another language.

“Watch.” I held the reins in front of me as Cahil had instructed. Kiki’s left ear cocked back, the other pointed forward. She turned her head slightly to the left so she could see me fully.

Walk around the pasture? I asked her. Near the fence.

Kiki started to move. Her steps rocked me from side to side. I let her find the path as I enjoyed the view.

As we circled the pasture, I heard Cahil yell, “Heels down! Straighten up!”

Eventually, we moved out of his sight.

Fast? Kiki asked.

Not yet.

A glint of sunlight and a blur of motion from outside the fence caught my eye. Kiki shied, turning sharply to the right. I flew left.

Bad smell. Bad thing.

Instinctively, I grabbed her mane, stopping my fall. My right leg stretched across the saddle as I hung from Kiki’s side, clutching her coarse brown hair.

Kiki’s muscles bunched and she danced to the side. I caught a glimpse of what had startled her. Stop. A man.

She held still, but her legs trembled in terror. Bad man. Shiny thing.

I yanked myself upright in the saddle. Bad man. Run.

13

KIKI TOOK OFF.

I held on to her mane, and tried to stay in the saddle. After a few strides, I looked behind just in time to see Goel’s sword flash in the sunlight.

When Cahil saw us racing across the pasture, he raised his arms and shouted. “Whoa! Whoa!”

Kiki galloped straight for him, her mind so focused on survival that I had to wait for Goel’s scent to disappear before she would respond to my calming thoughts.

Man gone. It’s okay, I said to her. I patted her on the neck and whispered the same thing into her ear. She settled and halted mere inches from Cahil.

“At least you stayed on the horse.” He grabbed Kiki’s reins. “What happened?”

I jumped down from the saddle and examined Cahil. He didn’t look surprised. In fact, he seemed mildly amused.

“What do you think happened?” I countered.

“Kiki spooked at something. I told you horses are skittish, but you had to go off before you were ready.”

Something in Cahil’s eyes made me suspicious. “Did you send Goel to ambush me?” I demanded.

“Goel?” Cahil seemed taken aback. “No, I—”

“You set that up. You wanted Kiki to panic.”

Cahil frowned. “I wanted you to learn. Horses are prey animals and will react to the slightest noise, scent or movement long before any logic can kick in. And if you’d fallen, you would know it’s not terrible. Then you wouldn’t be afraid to fall or bail off a horse when you need to.”

“How nice for you that you’ve already forgotten I’ve fallen off a horse. Actually, shoved off a horse. Your horse to be exact. It’s a memory I wish I could forget so easily.”

Cahil had the decency to look contrite.

“So sending Goel was a lesson?” I asked. “I don’t believe it, Cahil. He was armed.”

Fury flashed across Cahil’s face. “I asked Erant to help me. Goel is supposed to be guarding Tula. I’ll deal with him.”

“Don’t bother. I can take care of Goel. At least he had the decency to warn me of his plans. Unlike others.” I glared at Cahil, snatched the reins from his hands and strode back to the stable with Kiki. It had been a mistake to go to my lesson unarmed. I had foolishly assumed Goel wouldn’t try to attack me while I was with Cahil. Lesson learned. Cahil should be proud, even if it wasn’t the lesson he intended.

The next morning, I set out to find the market. I kept a wary eye on the people in the streets of the Citadel. All seemed headed toward the center square. Amazed by the number of people crowding around the market stands, I hesitated. I didn’t want to push my way through them, yet I needed to shop.

I spotted a few of the Keep’s workers, and had decided to ask one of them for assistance when I felt a tug on my sleeve. Spinning around, I reached for my bow on my backpack. The small boy flinched. I recognized him as the beggar I had given my Sitian coins to on my first day in the Citadel.

“Sorry. You startled me,” I said.

He relaxed. “Lovely Lady, can you spare a copper?”

Remembering what Irys had said about the beggars, I thought of an idea. “How about you help me and I’ll help you?”

Wariness filled his eyes. In that instant he seemed to grow ten years older. My heart broke, and I wanted to empty my purse into his hands. Instead, I said, “I’m new here. I’m looking to buy paper and ink. Do you know a good merchant?”

He seemed to catch on. “Maribella’s has the finest stationery,” he said, his eyes alight. “I’ll show you.”

“Wait. What’s your name?”

He hesitated, and then lowered his eyes to the ground. “Fisk,” he mumbled.

I dropped to one knee. Looking him in the eyes, I offered my hand. “Greetings, Fisk. I’m Yelena.”

He grasped my hand with both of his, his mouth agape with astonishment. I guessed he was close to nine years old. Fisk recovered with a shake of his head. He then led me to a young girl’s table at the edge of the square. I purchased writing paper, a stylus and some black ink, then gave Fisk a Sitian copper for his help. As the morning wore on, Fisk guided me to other stands for more supplies and soon other children were “hired” to help carry my packages.

When I finished shopping, I surveyed my entourage. Six grubby children smiled at me despite the heat and searing sun. I suspected that one boy was Fisk’s younger brother; they had the same light brown eyes. The other two boys may have been his cousins. Greasy strands of hair hid most of the two girls’ faces so it was impossible to tell if they were related to Fisk.

I realized then that I was reluctant to return to the Keep.

Sensing my mood, Fisk asked, “Lovely Yelena, would you like a tour of the Citadel?”

I nodded. The midday heat had emptied the market, but as I followed the children through the deserted streets, a feeling of unease settled over me. What if they were leading me into a trap? My hand sought the handle of my switchblade. Concentrating, I pulled a thread of power and projected my awareness.

My mind touched life all around me. Most of the Citadel’s citizens resided inside, their thoughts focused on finding a cool spot or a quiet activity while they waited for the sun to set. No threats. No ambushes.

I heard the sound of water before I saw the fountain. With squeals of delight, the children put down my packages and ran to the spray. Fisk stayed by my side, though, taking his role as tour guide seriously.

“That’s the Unity Fountain,” he said.

A circle of waterspouts surrounded a huge stone sphere with large holes spaced evenly across its surface. Nestled inside the sphere, I could see another smaller sphere with holes of its own. The deep green color of the fountain wasn’t veined like the marble of the Citadel’s walls, yet the stone hinted that it held something else within.

“Marble?” I asked Fisk.

“Jade mined from the Emerald Mountains. This is the largest piece of pure jade ever found. It took a year to get it here and, because jade is so hard, it took over five years to carve it with diamond-tipped chisels. There are eleven spheres and all of them were carved inside that one stone.”

Amazing. I moved closer to the fountain so I could see the other spheres. The cool mist felt good against my hot skin.

“Why eleven?” I asked.

Fisk stood next to me. “One sphere for each clan. And one waterspout for each clan. Water represents life,” he explained. “See the carvings on the outer circle?”

I risked getting soaked to examine the intricate lines on the fountain.

“Mythical creatures. Each represents one Master Magician. Ying Lung, a sky dragon for First Magician; Fei Lian, a wind leopard for Second; Kioh Twan, a unicorn for Third; and Pyong, a hawk for Fourth.”

“Why those creatures?” I asked, remembering that Irys had worn a hawk mask when she had visited Ixia as part of the Sitian delegation.

“When magicians reach the Master level, they endure a series of tests.” Fisk sounded as if he quoted a schoolbook. “During that time, they travel through the underworld and meet their guide. This creature not only shows them through the underworld, but guides them throughout life.”

“Do you believe that?” It sounded like a fairy tale to me. When the Commander had taken power in Ixia, superstitions and religious beliefs had been discouraged. If anyone still believed, they kept quiet and worshipped in secret.

Fisk shrugged. “I know something happens to the Magicians during the test because my father’s seen it. He used to work at the Keep.”

A hardness settled on Fisk’s face, so I didn’t ask any more questions. But I wondered about the creatures. Irys had disguised herself as a hawk mistress in Ixia. She wore the proper uniform to blend in with the Ixian. Perhaps she also worked with the Commander’s hawks.

“It’s good luck to drink from the fountain,” Fisk said. Then he ran to his friends who played in the water, opening their mouths to catch the spray.

After a moment’s hesitation, I joined them. The water tasted fresh as if laced with strong minerals like an elixir of life. I drank deeply. I could use a little good luck.

When the children finished playing, Fisk led me to another fountain. This one was carved from rare white jade. Fifteen horses frozen in motion circled a large spout of water.

Although Fisk didn’t complain, I could see that the heat had finally worn him out. Still, when I offered to carry my purchases back to the Keep, all the children refused, saying they would take them as promised.

On the way back, I sensed Topaz’s worry the moment before I saw Cahil rounding the corner. My parade of children stepped to the side of the road as Cahil advanced, stopping Topaz in front of us.

“Yelena, where have you been?” he demanded.

I glared at him. “Shopping. Why? Do you have another surprise test for me?”

He ignored my question, staring instead at my companions. The children shrank against the wall, trying to make themselves as small as possible.

“The market has been closed for hours. What have you been doing?” he asked.

“None of your business.”

His gaze snapped to me. “Yes, it is. This is your first trip into the Citadel alone. You could have been robbed. You could have gotten lost. When you didn’t come back, I thought the worst.” Cahil’s eyes slid back to the children.

“I can take care of myself.” I glanced at Fisk. “Lead on,” I said.

Fisk nodded and started down the street. The other children and I followed him.

Cahil snorted and dismounted. Taking Topaz’s reins, he walked beside me. But he couldn’t remain quiet.

“Your choice of escorts will lead to trouble,” he said. “Every time you go into the Citadel, they’ll descend on you like parasites, sucking you dry.” Loathing filled his face.

“Another lesson?” I asked, not hiding my sarcasm.

“Just trying to help.” Anger tightened his voice.

“You can stop. Stick to what you know, Cahil. If it doesn’t involve horses, then I don’t need your assistance.”

He let his breath out in a long huff. From the corner of my eye, I saw him swallow his temper. Impressive.

“You’re still mad at me,” he said.

“Why would I be?”

“For not believing you about being a spy.”

When I didn’t say anything, he continued, “For what happened with First Magician. I know it must have been awful—”

“Awful!” Stopping in the middle of the street, I rounded on Cahil. “What do you know? Has she done it to you?”

“No.”

“Then you have no idea what you’re talking about. Imagine being helpless and stripped bare. Your thoughts and feelings exposed to a ruthless intimate scrutiny.”

His eyes widened in shock. “But she said you fought her off. That she couldn’t fully read you.”

I shuddered at the thought of Roze going deeper, understanding why Cahil had claimed that her interrogation left some people with mental damage.

“It’s worse than being raped, Cahil. I know. I’ve suffered both.”

He gaped. “Is that why?”

“What? Go ahead. Ask.” I wasn’t about to spare him to make him feel better.

“Why you stayed in your room those first three days?”

I nodded. “Irys told me I was sulking, but I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone even looking at me.”

Topaz put his head over my shoulder. I rubbed my cheek on his soft face. My anger at Cahil had blocked out the horse’s thoughts. Now I opened my mind to him.

Lavender Lady safe. Topaz’s pleasure filled my mind. Apple?

I smiled. Later.

Cahil watched us with a strange expression on his face. “You only smile at the horses.”

I couldn’t tell if he was jealous or sad.

“What Roze…I…did to you. Is that why you keep everyone at arm’s length?” Cahil asked.

“Not entirely. And not everyone.”

“Who else do you smile at?”

“Irys.”

He nodded as if he had expected that answer. “Anyone else?”

My fingers touched the bump my chest made by the Butterfly pendant under my shirt. Valek would get more from me than a smile. But I said, “My friends in the north.”

“The ones who taught you to fight?”

“Yes.”

“How about the person who gave you that necklace?”

I jerked my hand away. “How did you know about my necklace?” I demanded.

“It fell out while you were unconscious.”

I frowned, remembering Cahil had carried me to my room after Roze’s interrogation.

“Guess I shouldn’t have reminded you about that,” he said. “But I was right about it being a gift, wasn’t I?”

“It’s none of your business. Cahil, you’re acting like we’re friends. We’re not friends.”

The children waited for us at an intersection. I started toward them.

Cahil caught up. We walked on in silence. When we reached the Keep, I took my packages from the children and paid them each two coppers.

I grinned at Fisk, and then glanced at Cahil, feeling self-conscious about my smiles.

“See you on the next market day,” I said to Fisk. “And tell your friends they’ll each get an extra copper if they show up clean.”

He waved. I watched the group of children disappear; they probably knew all the back alleys and secret ways inside the Citadel. That knowledge might be useful one day. I would have to ask Fisk to show me.

Having grown up in the Citadel, Cahil probably knew the shortcuts, too, but I wouldn’t ask him. Not when he had such a dour expression.

“What now?” I asked.

He sighed. “Why do you always have to make things so difficult?”

“You started this. Remember? Not me.”

He shook his head. “Why don’t we start over? We’ve been at odds from the start. What can I do to receive one of your rare smiles?”

“Why do you want one? If you’re hoping that we’ll become friends and I’ll confide in you all the military secrets of Ixia, don’t bother.”

“No. That’s not what I want. I want things to be different between us.”

“Different how?”

Cahil looked around as if searching for the right words. “Better. Less hostility. Friendlier. Conversations instead of arguments.”

“After what you put me through?”

“I’m sorry, Yelena.” The words tore from his throat as if it pained him to say them. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you weren’t a spy. I’m sorry I asked First Magician to—” he swallowed. “To rape your mind.”

I turned my face away from him. “That apology is weeks old, Cahil. Why bother now?”

He sighed. “Plans are being made for the New Beginnings feast.”

Some hitch in Cahil’s voice caused me to look at him. He wrapped and unwrapped Topaz’s leather reins around his hands.

“It’s a feast to celebrate the beginning of the cooling season and the new school year. A chance for everyone to get together and start anew.” Cahil’s blue eyes searched mine. “In all these years, I have never wanted to take anyone with me. I never had anyone who I wanted to have by my side. Yet when I overheard the cooks discussing the feast’s menu this morning, your image filled my mind. Come with me, Yelena?”

14

CAHIL’S WORDS STRUCK ME like a physical blow. I jerked back a step.

His face saddened at my reaction. “I guess that’s a no. We’d probably just fight all night anyway.” He began to walk away.

“Cahil, wait,” I said, catching up to him. “You surprised me.” An understatement for sure.

I had believed that the only thing Cahil wanted from me was information about Ixia. This invitation might still be a ploy, but for the first time I saw a softness behind his eyes. I put my hand on his arm. He stopped.

“Does everyone go to this New Beginnings feast?” I asked him.

“Yes. It’s a good way for the new students to meet their teachers, and a chance for everyone to get reacquainted. I’m going because I’ll be teaching the senior and apprentice classes about horsemanship.”

“So, I’m not your first student?”

“No, but you’ve been my most stubborn one.” He smiled ruefully.

I smiled in return. Cahil’s eyes lit up.

“Okay, Cahil, in the spirit of this New Beginnings feast, let’s start over. I’m willing to accompany you to the feast as the first step in our new friendship.” Besides, the thought of going alone to meet my fellow students seemed daunting.

“Friendship?”

“That’s all I can offer.”

“Because of the person who gave you that Butterfly pendant?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And what did you give him in return?”

I wanted to snap that it was none of his business, but I controlled my temper. If we were going to be friends, he needed to know the truth. “My heart.” I could have added my body, my trust and my soul.

He looked at me for a moment. “Guess I’ll have to be content with friendship.” He grinned. “Does this mean you won’t be so difficult anymore?”

“Don’t count on it.”

He laughed and helped me carry my market purchases back to my rooms. I spent the rest of the night reading the chapters Bain had assigned, stopping on occasion to think about Cahil’s new role as friend in my life.

I enjoyed my fascinating mornings with Bain Bloodgood. Sitian history extended back for centuries. The eleven Sitian clans fought with each other for decades until Windri Green-tree, a Master Magician, united them and formed the Council of Elders. I realized to my dismay, and to Bain’s delight, that I had a great deal of study ahead of me to learn the full history. And their mythology alone, populated with creatures, demons and legends, would take years of lessons to know them all.

Bain also explained the structure of the school. “Every student has a magician as a mentor. That mentor oversees the student’s learning. He teaches. He guides. He schedules classes with other magicians who have more expertise in certain subjects.”

“How many students are in each class?” I asked.

Bain swept his hand through the air, indicating the room, empty except for us. We sat in an open circular chamber at the base of his tower. Books lined the walls in neat piles, and writing projects covered each of Bain’s four ink-stained worktables. The metal rings of Bain’s astrolabe glowed in the morning sunlight.

I perched on the edge of his wide desk. Small writing tools and piles of papers rested on the top in an organized arrangement. A white seashell appeared to be his only decoration. Sitting across from me, Bain wore a deep purple robe that drank in the light. His diverse collection of robes amazed me. So far, he was the only magician I’d seen that wore a formal robe on a daily basis.

“We are a class,” he said. “There can be up to four students, but no more. You will not see rows upon rows of students listening to a lecturer in this school. We teach using hands-on learning and small groups.”

“How many students does each mentor have?”

“No more than four for those who have experience. Only one for the new magicians.”

“How many do the Master Magicians teach?” I was dreading the day when I would have to share Irys.

“Ah…” He paused. For once Bain seemed at a loss for words. “The Masters do not mentor students. We are needed in Council meetings. We aid Sitia. We recruit prospective students. But occasionally a student comes along that piques our interest.”

He gazed at me as if deciding how much he should tell me. “I have grown weary of Council meetings. So I have transferred all my energies to teaching. This year I have two students. Roze has chosen only one since she became First Magician. Zitora has none. She is adjusting; she only became a Master last year.”

“And Irys?”

“You’re her first.”

“Just me?” I asked in amazement.

He nodded.

“You said Roze chose one. Who?”

“Your brother, Leif.”

Evidence that the Keep prepared for an invasion of returning students mounted as the week progressed. Servants scurried to air out rooms and dorms. The kitchen buzzed with activity as the staff prepared for the feast. Even the Citadel’s streets hummed with life as residents returned. In the evenings, laughter and music floated on the cooling air.

As I waited for Irys to return from fetching Tula’s sister, I spent my mornings with Bain, my afternoons studying and my evenings with Cahil and Kiki. My riding had advanced from walking Kiki to trotting, a bone-jarring gait that left me stiff and sore at the end of the day.

Every night I sat with Tula, connecting with her and lending her my support. Her mind remained vacant, but her brutalized body healed by leaps and bounds.

“Do you have healing powers?” Hayes asked me one night. “Her physical progress has been amazing. More like the work of two healers.”

I considered his question. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

“Perhaps you’ve been helping her heal without realizing it. Would you like to find out?”

“I don’t want to hurt her,” I said.

“I won’t let you.” Hayes smiled as he picked up Tula’s left hand. The splints on her right hand were gone, but the fingers on her left were still swollen and bruised. “I have only enough energy to mend a few bones a day. Usually we let the body heal on its own. But for serious injuries, we speed up the process.”

“How?”

“I draw power to me. Then I focus on the injury. Skin and muscles disappear before my eyes, revealing the bones. I use the power to encourage the bone to mend. It works the same for other injuries. My eyes will only see the wound. It is truly wonderful.”

Hayes’s eyes glowed with purpose, but when they shifted to Tula they dimmed. “Unfortunately, some injuries just can’t be healed, and the mind is so complex that any damage is usually permanent. We have a few mind healers. Fourth Magician is the strongest of these, but even she can only do so much.”

As Hayes focused on Tula, I felt the air around me thicken and pulsate. Drawing a breath became an effort. Then Hayes closed his eyes. Without thinking, I linked my mind with his. Through him I saw Tula’s hand. Her skin became translucent, showing the battered pink fibrous muscles attached to the bones. I saw strands of power, thin as spiderwebs, wrapped around Hayes’s hands. He wove the webs around the crack in Tula’s bone. As I watched, the crack disappeared and then the muscles healed.

I broke the mental connection to Hayes and looked at Tula. The bruises had faded from her now straight index finger. The air thinned as the power faded. His forehead shone with sweat and his breath puffed from the effort he’d just expended.

“Now, you try,” he said.

I moved closer to Tula and took her hand from Hayes. Holding her middle finger, I rubbed it lightly with my thumb as I pulled power to me, revealing the bone. Hayes gasped. I paused.

“Go on,” he said.

My strands of power were rope thick. When I applied the strands to the bone, they wrapped around it like a noose. I pulled back, fearing her finger would snap in half.

Placing her hand back on the bed, I looked at Hayes. “Sorry. I don’t have full control of my magic yet.”

He stared at Tula’s hand. “Look.”

Both fingers appeared to have been healed.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Using magic usually left me tired, but I really hadn’t used any. Or had I? “About the same.”

“Three healings and I need to nap.” Hayes shook his head. His dark hair fell into his eyes. He swiped his bangs back with an impatient hand. “You just mended a bone effortlessly. Fate be with us,” he said. Awe and fear roughened his voice. “Once you have full control, you may be able to wake the dead.”

15

FEAR SURGED THROUGH ME, leaving my muscles trembling.

“No,” I said to Hayes. “You must be mistaken. No one can wake the dead.”

Hayes rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, reconsidering.

“Perhaps I spoke rashly,” he agreed. “Only one person in our history could revive the dead.” He shuddered. “And the results were truly horrible.”

I wanted to ask more questions, but Hayes bolted toward the door, insisting he had work to do.

Feeling odd and unsettled, I peered at Tula’s motionless form. Through her blanket and skin, I could see each of her injuries. It seemed now that I had learned this new ability, I couldn’t turn it off. The fractures, sprains, bruises all pulsed with an urgent red light. The more I studied the light the more it drew my mind in, and I felt Tula’s physical pain soak into me. In sudden agony, I collapsed onto the floor.

Curling into a ball, I squeezed my eyes shut. A small part of me knew the pain was imaginary, but, in panic, I still tried to push the torment away. I pulled power from the source. Magic filled me. The buildup crackled across my skin like fire. I released the power.

My scream resounded through the room as cool relief swept through me, quenching my pain. Drained of energy, I remained on the floor, panting.

“Yelena, are you all right?”

I opened my eyes. Hayes hovered over me in concern. I nodded. “Tula?”

He left my side. “She’s fine.”

I sat up. The room spun for a moment but I forced myself to focus.

“What happened?” Hayes asked.

I wanted to say that I had lost control, to explain that my old survival instincts had kicked in, reacting to the pain without conscious thought. But it hadn’t felt quite like that, and to admit that I had lost control would be dangerous. Uncontrolled magicians could damage the power source and the Masters would be forced to kill me. Instead, I clamped my lips together, trying to bring some order to my jumbled thoughts.

Before I could speak, Hayes said, “You healed her other two fingers.”

He stood next to Tula’s bed, and held her left hand up. Hayes inspected her fingers before laying her arm across her stomach.

Then he turned to me with a frown. “You shouldn’t have tried that without me. No wonder you screamed. You gathered too much power and had to release it.” Hayes gestured to my prone form. “A beginner’s mistake, and now you’re exhausted. You really need to work on your control.”

While helping me to my feet, Hayes’s frown softened into what might have been relief. “You have the ability to heal, but need guidance. I misjudged you at first, thinking you might be a Soulfinder.” Hayes huffed out a laugh. “Next time, wait for me. Okay?”

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

Hayes guided me toward the door. “Get some rest. You’ll probably be weak for a few days.”

As I shuffled to the apprentice’s wing, I replayed the events in my mind, and by the time I collapsed into my bed, I managed to almost convince myself that Hayes’s explanation was correct. Almost.

Fatigue dogged me all through the next day. Bain’s morning lesson passed in a blur. Instead of reading, I napped the afternoon away, and fought to stay awake while riding Kiki that night. Cahil’s bellowing eventually pierced the fog in my mind.

“Yelena!”

I looked at him as if seeing him for the first time that evening. Coated with dirt and horse hair, his once-white cotton shirt clung to his muscular frame. Annoyance creased his forehead. His mouth moved in speech, but it took me a moment to discern his words.

“…distracted, exhausted, and you’re going to get hurt.”

“Hurt?” I asked.

“Yes, hurt. When you fall asleep in the saddle and slide off the horse.” Cahil controlled his frustration, but I could see by the way he pumped his clenched fists that he wanted to shake some sense into me.

Lavender Lady tired. Kiki agreed. Forgot apples.

“Yelena, go home.” Cahil took Kiki’s reins to hold her steady while I dismounted.

Home? Unbidden, the image of my small room in the Commander’s castle jumped into my mind, followed by the memory of Valek’s smiling face. I could use some of his energy right now.

“Are you all right?”

I gazed into Cahil’s light blue eyes. They were pale in comparison to Valek’s vibrant sapphire color. “Yes. I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?” Cahil laughed. “Go get some sleep; I’ll take care of Kiki. You’ll need your energy for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?”

“The New Beginnings feast. Remember?”

“I didn’t realize it was so soon.”

“Prepare yourself for an invasion of students and magicians. Come morning, our peace and quiet will be gone.”

Cahil led Kiki toward the stable. I promised her extra apples before our next lesson as I headed to my rooms.

Apprehension about the feast, though, gnawed through my fatigue even as I climbed into bed. Half-asleep, the shock of realizing that I didn’t own the proper attire for a feast nearly jolted me awake. What did one wear to a feast anyway? Would I have to don my formal apprentice robe? I wondered, then sighed. Too tired to worry about things like clothes, I rolled over. More important worries such as the need to take control of my magic pushed out all others.

A frenzy of activity filled the campus the next morning. I skirted groups of people carrying parcels as I walked to Bain’s tower.

Opening the door to his study, I started to ask Bain about the arriving students, but stopped when I saw he had two visitors.

From behind his desk, Bain gestured me in. “Yelena, these are my students. Dax Greenblade, a fellow apprentice, and Gelsi Moon, a novice.” With an open hand, he pointed to each in turn.

They nodded in greeting. Their serious expressions looked out of place on such young faces. I guessed that Dax was eighteen years old, while the girl must have been about fifteen.

“Have you chosen another student, Master Bloodgood?” Gelsi asked. She tugged absently on the white lace at the end of her sleeve. Violet and white swirls patterned both her blouse and long skirt.

“No, Yelena is working with another,” Bain said.

I had to suppress a grin as each relaxed. Dax flashed me a smile.

Gelsi, though, seemed intrigued with me. “Who is your mentor?” she asked.

“Irys…ah…Master Jewelrose.”

The two students seemed as surprised as I had been when Bain told me about Irys.

“What’s your clan?” Gelsi asked.

“Zaltana.”

“Another distant cousin of Leif’s?” Dax asked. “You’re a little old to start training. What strange power do you have?”

His tone implied curiosity and humor, but Bain said, “Dax, that’s inappropriate. She’s Leif’s sister.”

“Ahhhh…” Dax studied me with keen interest.

“Do we have a lesson this morning?” I asked Bain.

The magician perked up at my question. He instructed Dax to go unpack, but he asked Gelsi to remain. Her heart-shaped face paled for a moment before she steadied herself, smoothing her shoulder-length copper curls.

“I fear Irys will be back soon and reclaim you,” Bain said to me with a smile. “Gelsi’s focus for this semester is to learn how to communicate magically with other magicians. Irys has told me this is your strongest ability. Therefore, I would like your assistance with introducing this skill to my student.”

Gelsi’s eyes widened. Her long thick eyelashes touched her brows.

“I’ll do what I can,” I said.

Bain rummaged through one of his desk’s drawers and pulled a small burlap sack from it. He set the bag on the desk and opened it, taking out two brown lumps.

“We’ll use Theobroma for the first lesson,” he said.

The lumps triggered memories of my time in Ixia. Theobroma was the southern name for Criollo, a delicious sweet that had the unfortunate effect of opening a person’s mind to magical influences. General Brazell had used the nutty flavored dessert to bypass the Commander’s strong will so Brazell’s magician, Mogkan could gain control of the Commander’s mind.

Bain handed me one of the Theobroma pieces and he gave the other to Gelsi. Then he told us to sit in the two chairs that faced each other. While I would have enjoyed eating the mouth-coating sweet, I thought it unnecessary.

“Can we try without it first?” I asked.

Bain’s bushy gray eyebrows rose as he considered my question. “You don’t need it to make an initial connection?”

I thought about the different people and horses I had linked with. “So far, no.”

“All right. Yelena, I want you to try to connect with Gelsi.”

Dredging some energy from my tired body, I pulled a thread of power and directed it to the girl, projecting my awareness to her. I sensed her apprehension about working with this strange woman from Ixia in her mind.

Hello, I said.

She jumped in shock.

To help her relax I said, I was born in the Illiais Jungle. Where did you grow up?

Gelsi formed an image of a small village wrapped in fog in her mind. We reside in the foothills of the Emerald Mountains. Every morning our house is enveloped in the mist from the mountains.

I showed her my parents’ dwelling in the trees. We “talked” about siblings. A middle child, Gelsi, had two older sisters and two younger brothers, but she was the only one in her family to develop magical powers.

Bain watched us in silence, then he interrupted, “Break the connection now.”

Sapped of energy, I dragged my awareness back.

“Gelsi, it is your turn to make contact with Yelena.”

She closed her eyes, and I sensed her seeking my mind. All I would need to do was tug on her awareness.

“Do not help her,” Bain warned me.

Instead, I kept my mind open, but she failed to reach me.

“Not to worry,” Bain consoled her. “The first time is the hardest. That is why we use Theobroma.”

Bain’s gray eyes studied me with kindness. “We will try again another time. Gelsi, go unpack and get settled.”

After she left Bain’s tower, he said, “No doubt you wore yourself out yesterday. Hayes mentioned something to me. Tell me what happened,” he instructed.

I told him about the pain and the power. “It seems I don’t have full control yet,” I offered, waiting to see if he would chastise me. If my actions had truly been an uncontrolled burst, I knew the other Master Magicians would have felt it. And certain that Roze would have acted without hesitation on that knowledge.

“A lesson learned,” Bain said. “Repairing injuries takes immense effort. Enough for today. I’ll see you tonight at the feast.”

The feast! I had forgotten. Again. “What should I…” I stopped, feeling awkward and silly to be asking about clothing.

Bain smiled in sympathy. “No expertise in that matter,” he said, seeming to read my mind. “Zitora will enjoy helping you. She’s at loose ends this year and will welcome some company.”

“I thought she was busy with Council business.”

“She is, but she’s transitioning from five years of being a student to being on her own. Having no time to be a mentor doesn’t mean she won’t have time to make a friend.”

I left Bain’s tower and headed toward Zitora’s in the northeast corner of the Keep. Lively groups filled the campus walkways and people hurried past me in every direction. My quiet walks through the Keep were at an end, yet I felt energized by all the activity.

Zitora greeted me with a bright smile that only dimmed when we discussed Tula’s condition. Talk eventually turned to the upcoming festivities, and I inquired about appropriate dress.

“The formal robes are only for the boring school functions,” Zitora said. “Do tell me you have something pretty to wear.”

When I shook my head, she transformed into a mother hen and set about finding me some clothes.

“Thank fate you’re my size,” Zitora said with glee.

Despite my protests, she dragged me up two flights to her bedroom and loaded my arms with dresses, skirts and lacy blouses. Zitora propped her hands on her hips, considering my boots. “Those will not do.”

“They’re comfortable and I can move easily in them,” I said.

“A challenge then. Mmm. I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared into another room, while I waited in her bedroom on the third floor of her tower. Soft pastel paintings of flowers hung on the walls. Oversize pillows graced her canopy bed. The room oozed comfort like open arms wrapping me in a hug.

With a triumphant shout, Zitora sauntered into the room, a pair of black sandals raised high for admiration.

“Rubber soles, soft leather and a small heel. Perfect for dancing all night long.” She laughed.

“I don’t know how to dance,” I said.

“Doesn’t matter. You have a natural grace. Watch the others and follow.” Zitora added the sandals to the top of my pile.

“I really can’t take all of this.” I tried to give the clothes back. “I came for advice, not your entire wardrobe.” I planned to go to the market. With the return of the Citadel’s residents, the shops remained open every day.

She shooed me away. “Hardly made a dent in my armoire. I’m a collector of clothes. I can’t pass a dress shop without finding something I must have.”

“At least let me pay—”

“Stop.” She raised her hand. “I’ll make it easier for you. Tomorrow I’m leaving on a mission for the Council, and—much to my chagrin—I will have an escort of four soldiers. Irys and Roze can gallivant all over Sitia by themselves, and they’re assigned all the fun, secret missions. But the Council worries about me. So I’m limited to escorted missions.” She huffed with frustration. “I’ve seen you practicing with your bow near the stable. How about I exchange my clothes for some lessons in self-defense?”

“Okay. But why didn’t you learn how to defend yourself while a student here?”

“I hated the Master of Arms,” she said with a deep frown. “A bully who turned the teaching sessions into torture sessions. He enjoyed inflicting pain. I avoided him at all costs. When the Masters realized I had strong powers, they focused more on my learning.”

“Who’s the Arms Master?”

“One of the northerners with Cahil. Goel’s his name.” Zitora shuddered with revulsion. “Although he wasn’t as bad as the Master test…” She paused as a cringe of horror crossed her face. Then she jerked her head as if dislodging unwanted memories.

“Anyway, Roze offered to teach me, but I’d rather have you as my instructor.” She flashed me a conspiratorial smirk.

Having agreed to the exchange, I maneuvered down Zitora’s tower steps with the bundle of her clothes heaped in my arms. So burdened, I headed toward my rooms. On the way, I wondered about the Master test. Fisk, the beggar boy had also mentioned it. I would have to ask Irys.

The courtyard across from my quarters buzzed with students. A few boys tossed a ball, while others lounged on the grass or talked in groups. Hampered by Zitora’s clothes, I fumbled at my door.

“Hey, you!” someone called.

I looked around and spotted a group of girls gesturing at me.

“The first year barracks are that way.” One of the girls with long blond hair pointed. “This is for apprentices only.”

“Thanks, but this is my room,” I called, turning back.

I managed to get the door open before I felt a prickle of power along my spine. Tossing the clothing on to the floor, I spun around. A group of students stood mere inches from me.

“You don’t belong here,” said the long-haired girl. A dangerous shine lit her violet eyes. “You’re new. I know everybody, and new students go to the first-year barracks. You have to earn a room here.”

Persuasive magic emanated from her. A strong desire to pack my belongings and move to the first-year dorms coursed through my mind and pressed against my body. I deflected her magical command by strengthening my mental defenses.

She grunted in outrage. A look passed among her companions. Power built as they readied to join in. I braced for another attack, but before they could use their combined power, another voice cut through the throng.

“What’s going on here?”

The power dissipated in a stiff wave as Dax Greenblade pushed his lean muscular body through the group, staring down at the others with his bottle-green eyes. In the sunlight, his honey-brown skin made his face appear older.

“She doesn’t belong here,” the girl repeated.

“Yelena is Fourth Magician’s student,” Dax said. “She’s been assigned to this wing.”

“But that’s not fair,” the girl whined. “You have to earn the right to be here.”

“And who’s to say she hasn’t?” Dax asked. “If you believe Fourth Magician is in error, I suggest you take it up with her.”

An uncomfortable silence followed before the group returned to the courtyard. Dax stayed beside me.

“Thanks,” I said. The group huddled in a tight pack, casting nasty looks my way as they talked. “Guess I haven’t made any friends.”

“Three points against you, I’m afraid. One.” Dax held up a long slender finger. “You’re new. Two. Fourth Magician’s your mentor. Any student selected by a Master is guaranteed to be the subject of jealousy. If you’re looking for friends, I’m afraid Gelsi and I are your only choices.”

“What’s the third point?”

He smiled sardonically. “Rumors and speculation. The students will dig up every bit of information they can on you and why you’re here. It doesn’t matter if the information is true or not. In fact, the stranger the tidbits the better. And I have a feeling from what I already heard your tidbits are quite juicy and should inflame the gossip all the more.”

I studied his face. Lines of concern creased his forehead, and I saw no signs of deceit. “Tidbits?”

“You’re Leif’s lost sister, you’re older than all the students and you’re extremely powerful.”

I looked at him in surprise. Me? Powerful?

“I didn’t come over to help you. I came to protect them.” He inclined his head toward the group in the courtyard.

Before I could comment, Dax pointed to a room, five doors down from mine. “Come anytime for any reason. Gelsi is in the novice barracks near the west wall.”

Dax waved goodbye and strode toward his room. The group’s hostility transferred briefly to his back before returning to me. I closed my door.

Great. Day one and already the outcast. But did I care? Here to learn and not to make friends, I thought it wouldn’t matter once lessons started. By then, the students would be too busy to pay any attention to me.

I sorted through Zitora’s clothes, choosing a long black skirt and a red-and-black V-neck blouse. The shirt had two layers of material. A pattern of fine black lace over red silk.

I tried on the outfit. Deciding to leave my bow behind during the feast, I cut a slit in one of the skirt’s pockets for quick access to my switchblade. The sandals were a little big, so I poked another hole in the strap.

Until I looked at myself in the mirror I hadn’t realized I wore Commander Ambrose’s colors, the same combination as my northern uniform. I considered another outfit, even tried on different clothes, but felt the most comfortable in my first choice.

Pulling my hair from its braid, I scowled at the limp mess. The year before I had cut out the snarls and tangles, and now the ends had grown in ragged. My black hair now reached past my shoulders. It would need a good trim and washing.

I changed back into my day clothes and left my rooms to feed the promised apples to Topaz and Kiki. Conversation in the courtyard ceased as I emerged. Ignoring them, I set out for the stable. I would stop by the baths on my return.

The time for the feast came quicker than I expected. Once again, I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, assessing my clothing with a critical eye. I pushed a stray curl from my face.

An assistant at the baths had fussed over my awkward attempts to cut my own hair. She had commandeered my scissors and proceeded to trim the ends, then had rolled my hair with hot metal tubes.

Instead of being pulled into a bun, my hair now fell to my shoulders in big soft curls. I looked ridiculous. But before I could rearrange it, someone knocked on my door.

I grabbed my bow and peeked out the window. Cahil waited outside. His hair and beard appeared white in the moonlight.

Opening the door, I said, “I thought we agreed to meet…” I gaped.

Cahil wore a long silk tunic of midnight-blue. The collar stood up and silver piping followed the edge of the fabric to form a vee far enough below his throat to allow a glimpse of his muscular chest. The piping also went across his shoulders and dropped down the outside seam of his full sleeves. A silver mesh belt studded with gemstones cinched the tunic around his narrow waist. His trousers matched his shirt, and, once again, silver piping traced the outside seam of his pants, carrying my eyes down to a pair of polished leather boots. Royalty incarnated.

“I pass your rooms on the way. Seemed silly not to stop,” Cahil said.

He squinted into the lantern light that glowed behind me, and I realized he couldn’t see my openmouthed stare.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Give me a moment.” Returning to the sitting area, I gestured Cahil toward a chair as I went into my bedroom, where I secured my switchblade then smoothed my skirt. With no time to fix my hair, I settled for tucking it behind my ears. Curls! Living in Sitia had made me soft.

Cahil smiled broadly when he saw me in the light.

“Don’t laugh,” I warned.

“I never laugh at a beautiful woman. I’d much rather laugh and dance with her.”

“False flattery won’t work on me.”

“I meant every word.” Cahil offered his arm. “Shall we?”

After a slight hesitation, I linked my arm in his.

“Don’t worry. I’m only your escort tonight. I would offer to protect you from the drunken attentions of the other men, but I know all too well that you’re quite capable of holding your own. You’re probably armed. Right?”

“Always.”

We walked in companionable silence. Groups of students and other couples headed in the same direction soon joined us. Lively music pulsed through the air, becoming louder as we approached.

The dining room had been converted into a ballroom. Orange, red and yellow velvet streamers twisted along the ceiling and draped the walls. Laughter and conversation competed with the music as some people drank and ate, while others danced on the wooden dance floor. Everyone appeared to be wearing their finest clothes. The room sparkled with jewelry in the candlelight.

Our arrival went unnoticed. But as Cahil pulled me through the crowd toward the back of the room, a couple of surprised glances marked our passing.

A jolt snapped through me as we cleared the crowd and I spotted Leif. I hadn’t seen him since Irys had left, and I had assumed since he had graduated from the Keep he was no longer involved with the students or classes. But there he stood, next to Roze and Bain. Cahil aimed for them.

I almost fainted when Leif smiled at me as we approached, but when he recognized me it turned into a scowl. I wondered what I would have to do to get a true smile from Leif. Dismissing the thought, I didn’t want to earn his goodwill, and I certainly didn’t need it. Now, if I could keep saying that over and over in my mind, I might just start to believe it.

When we joined the group, Bain complimented my hairstyle, while Roze ignored me. Our group only truly came alive when Zitora joined us.

“Perfect! Absolutely perfect!” Zitora exclaimed over my outfit.

The talk soon turned to Council business and Cahil pressed Roze to get him on the agenda. Having no interest in discussing politics, my attention wandered as I scanned the crowd. I saw only a few of Cahil’s men. They wore dress uniforms and stood awkwardly to the side as if on duty instead of being there for pleasure. Perhaps they were.

I watched the dancers for a while. They circled the floor in pairs. After eight beats, they stopped and then took four steps into the center, then four steps back and continued around the circle. The pattern was then repeated. Similar to some of my self-defense katas, the dance resembled a prescribed set of moves.

Dax and Gelsi appeared. Bain’s students greeted the three Master Magicians with a stiff formality. Gelsi wore a soft green gown that shimmered in the lantern light. The gown’s color matched her big eyes. Studded with gold buttons, Dax’s red shirt had a mandarin collar. Gold piping lined the outside seam of his black pants.

“Hey, we match,” Dax said to me. I could just hear him over the music. “Would you like to dance?”

I glanced at Cahil, debating with Leif. “Sure.”

Dax smiled and pulled me into an opening on the dance floor. Watching had been easier than doing, but with Dax’s steady guidance, I soon caught the rhythm.

As we circled the floor, Dax said, “Remember when I said you had three points against you?”

I nodded.

“Now there are five.”

“What now?” I asked in exasperation. It was hard to believe I’d had time to make anyone else mad.

“You came to the feast on Cahil’s arm. Everyone will assume two things. One. That you’re his girlfriend. And two. That you’re an Ixian sympathizer, which is the greater of the two evils.”

“Well, they would be wrong. Who comes up with all these points and assumptions?” I demanded.

“Not me, that’s for sure,” Dax said. “If I were in charge, we’d have more desserts at dinner, more feasts and much more dancing.”

We danced for a while in silence. I mulled over the implications and decided not to waste my time worrying about what everyone else thought, or to bother attempting to change their perceptions. My time at the Keep was just a stopover. Let them wonder. My nervousness about the evening dissipated with my decision. I smiled at Dax.

“You have a mischievous glint. What are you planning?”

“Only five points against me?” I narrowed my eyes in mock concern. “Such a small number. I say we try for eight or ten.”

A wolfish grin spread across Dax’s face. “My lady, you are far too modest. You’re more than capable of handling fifteen or twenty.”

I laughed with genuine pleasure. Dax and I twirled around the dance floor for a few more songs before rejoining the group. Cahil met our return with a sour look. Before he could say anything or go back to debating with Leif, I grabbed Cahil’s hand and pulled him toward the dancers.

“Tonight is not for business,” I said as we followed Dax and Gelsi around the floor. “Tonight is for fun. Dancing instead of fighting.”

He laughed. “You’re right.”

The evening flew by as I danced with Cahil, Dax and Bain. Even the Stable Master swung me around for a rowdy foot-stomping song. If Cahil hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t have stopped to eat.

Irys’s arrival should have made the evening perfect, but I could see exhaustion etched in her face. Wearing a simple light blue gown instead of traveling clothes, she must have taken the time to bathe and to decorate her regal bun with rubies and diamonds before coming to the feast.

“Is everything okay? Did you find Tula’s sister?” I asked.

Irys nodded. “Her sister, Opal, is with Tula now.” She gave me an odd look.

“Should we try to help Tula tonight?”

Irys shook her head. “Let Opal spend some time with her sister. It’s the first she’s seen her since Tula was kidnapped.” Again, Irys flashed me that strange look.

“What then? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I warned Opal of Tula’s condition—both mental and physical.” Irys rubbed a hand along her cheek. “But when we arrived, it seemed a miracle had occurred.” Irys peered with a deep intensity into my eyes.

“Is Tula awake?” I asked in confusion. Irys’s news contradicted her body language.

“No, her soul is still in hiding, but her body is completely healed.”

16

“HOW?” I ASKED IRYS. Hayes had said he could only heal a few bones at a time. Perhaps another healer had come to help him with Tula.

“You tell me,” Irys demanded. “What did you do that day? Hayes has been in a state ever since. He’s terrified of you.”

“Me?”

Bain came to my temporary rescue. “Perhaps you ladies would like to go outside.”

I looked around. Several people had stopped talking and gawked at us.

“I forget myself,” Irys apologized to Bain. “Now is not the time to discuss this.”

She headed toward the buffet. Everyone returned to their conversations. But she wasn’t finished with me.

Yelena, she said in my mind. Please tell me what happened with Tula.

Sudden dread churned in my stomach. Was Irys upset because I had lost control of my magic and had accidentally healed Tula, or because I could have jeopardized Tula’s life? With reluctance, I told her everything that had happened that day in Tula’s room.

You were in pain and you pushed the pain away from yourself? Irys asked.

Yes. Did I do something wrong?

No. You did something impossible. I thought you tried to heal her, which would have been dangerous, but it sounds as if you assumed her injuries and then healed yourself.

I stared at Irys with pure amazement. She sat across the room, eating her dinner.

Could you do it again? she asked.

I don’t know. It must have been an instinctive reaction.

There is only one way to find out. I felt Irys’s weary sigh. For now, I want you to get a good night’s rest. Meet me in Tula’s room tomorrow afternoon. Irys broke her magical connection to me.

Confusion creased Cahil’s face, and I realized he had been watching me. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Shouldn’t Fourth Magician be pleased that you healed that girl? That would mean…Oh, my sword!” He gaped.

Before I could press him for details, the music stopped.

“Midnight,” Bain declared. “Time to go. The students have a full day tomorrow.” His delighted anticipation of a full day of learning caused a ripple of smiles around him.

Obediently, everyone streamed out into the darkness, heading off to dorms and apartments. As he passed, Dax caught my eye. He grinned and held up seven fingers. I looked forward to hearing from him about my additional two points of gossip-inspiring behavior.

Cahil walked me to my rooms. He was unusually quiet.

Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Oh, my sword what?” I demanded.

“I realized something,” he said, trying to shrug me off.

Not content with his vague answer, I prompted, “Which was…”

“If I told you, you would be angry. I don’t want to end the evening with a fight.”

“And if I promised not to get upset?”

“You would anyway.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Ask me the next time we’re fighting.”

“What if we don’t fight?”

Cahil laughed. “With you, there is always a next time.”

Then with a speed that surprised me, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me in for a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing me.

“Till tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder as he strode away.

It was only after watching him disappear into the darkness that I realized I stood with my switchblade clutched in my right hand. But I hadn’t triggered the blade. The south was making me soft. First curls, now this. Shaking my head, I opened my door.

At Tula’s room the next afternoon, I had to squeeze my way in. Tula’s bed occupied the center. Leif and Hayes stood on the right side of her bed, and Irys and a young girl stood on the left. Tula’s guard, one of Cahil’s men, looked uncomfortable wedged in a corner.

Hayes paled when I looked at him. Irys introduced me to Opal, Tula’s sister. Opal’s long brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her red-rimmed eyes looked swollen from crying.

I hadn’t expected an audience. “Irys,” I said. “I need to spend some time with Opal before I can try to bring Tula back.”

Leif muttered something about grandstanding on his way out, and Hayes just aimed for the door.

“Do you need me?” Irys asked.

“No.”

“We don’t have much time,” Irys warned as she left the room.

She didn’t need to remind me that Tula’s attacker still roamed free, possibly hunting for another victim. However, I knew in my heart that if I rushed this, I wouldn’t succeed.

I asked Opal to tell me about her sister. In halting sentences, the young girl told me only a couple stories of their childhood.

“Tula once made me a large glass tiger to protect me from nightmares.” Opal smiled at the memory. “It worked and the tiger looked so lifelike that Tula started making other glass animals.” She glanced from her sister’s still form to the guard in the corner.

Opal seemed hesitant and distracted by her sister’s condition. So I changed the subject and asked about her trip to the Citadel.

Her dark brown eyes widened. “Fourth Magician woke us all up in the dead of night.”

At the word dead, the young girl glanced with dread at Tula.

“I was barely awake. Before I knew it, I was on the magician’s horse, riding flat out for the Keep.” Opal clutched her arms to herself. “When Tula was found, the healers rushed her to the Citadel. My parents had to find people to work the kilns and take care of us before they could follow her. They’re on the road somewhere.” Opal began to ramble. “We didn’t pass them. They don’t know I’m here. It’s my first trip away from home, and we stopped only to eat. I slept in the saddle.”

That would explain Irys’s exhaustion. Even today she had dark circles under her eyes. That also explained why Opal seemed so distressed. I switched tactics and invited Opal to take a walk. She appeared reluctant to leave her sister until I assured her that Tula would be fine.

I showed her the campus. The air temperature felt comfortable. With warm afternoons and chilly evenings, the weather during the cooling season was my favorite.

Eventually, we wandered out into the Citadel. I guided Opal toward the market. Fisk appeared with a ready smile and led us to a dress shop. I bought Opal a change of clothes and Fisk played tour guide for her.

When Opal seemed more relaxed, my questions about Tula grew more specific. As she remembered more stories, I pulled a thread of magic and linked my mind with Opal’s, witnessing her memories as she spoke. I smelled the hot furnace of their family’s glass factory, and felt the coarse sand in my hands.

“Tula and I used to hide from Mara, our older sister. We had found the perfect spot. Mara still doesn’t know where it is,” Opal said, smiling.

The image of an awning of tree limbs and sun-dappled grass filled Opal’s mind as the cool scent of moist earth reached my nose.

“That’s it.” I grabbed Opal’s arm. “Hold that place in your mind. Concentrate on it.”

She did as I asked. I closed my eyes and put myself into the memory. Blades of grass brushed my arms as I lay in the small hollow behind a row of overgrown bushes. The smell of sweet honeysuckles hung heavy in the fresh air. Dewdrops sparkled in the morning sunlight. Instinctively, I knew this place hid Tula’s soul.

“Come on.” I pulled Opal toward the Keep, waving goodbye to Fisk. A guard stood outside Tula’s door. He nodded to us as we went inside.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Fourth Magician and the others?” Opal asked.

“No time. I don’t want to lose the image.” I took one of Tula’s hands and held my other out to Opal. “Take my hand. Now, I want you to imagine yourself in your hiding spot with Tula. Close your eyes and really concentrate. Can you do that?”

Opal nodded, her pale face drawn.

I linked with Tula. The ghosts of her horrors still floated in the emptiness, but they seemed less tangible than before. Connecting with Opal, I followed the smell of honeysuckles and dew through Tula’s mind.

The ghosts thickened with a sudden fury, flying at me, blocking my passage. The air pressed and clung like molasses. I pushed past them only to be ensnared in a row of thorn bushes. My clothing snagged on branches and the barbs dug into my skin.

“Go away,” Tula called. “I don’t want to come back.”

“Your family misses you,” I said.

Vines began to wrap around my arms and waist, anchoring me.

“Go away!”

I showed her Opal’s memories of what her family suffered when Tula had disappeared.

The thorny bushes thinned a bit. Through their branches I spotted Tula curled up in her childhood hiding spot.

“I can’t face them,” Tula said.

“Your family?”

“Yes. I’ve done…things. Terrible things so he wouldn’t hurt me.” Tula shuddered. “But he hurt me anyway.”

The vines climbed up my arms and circled my neck.

“Your family still loves you.”

“They won’t. He’ll tell them what I did. They’ll be disgusted. I was his slave, but I didn’t try hard enough for him. I couldn’t get anything right. I didn’t even die for him.”

I controlled my anger; my desire to slaughter the beast would have to wait. “Tula, he is the disgusting one. He is the one who should die. Your family knows what he did to your body. They only want you back.”

She drew her body into a tighter ball. “What do you know? You know nothing about what I went through. Go away.”

“You assume too much,” I choked out as the vines around my throat squeezed tight. I struggled to breathe. Could I face my own horrors again? To find this monster, I would. I opened my mind to hers and showed her Reyad. His delight in torturing me. My willingness to make him happy so he wouldn’t harm me. And the night I slit his throat after he had raped me.

Tula peeked at me through her arms. The vines lessened the pressure. “You killed your torturer. Mine is still out there, waiting.”

I tried again. “Then he is free to make someone else his slave. What if Opal is his next victim?”

Tula jumped up in horror. “No!” she screamed.

I linked Opal’s mind with ours. For a moment, Opal stood stunned, blinking in surprise. Then she ran to Tula and hugged her. Together they wept. The vines withdrew, and the bushes died away.

But this was just the beginning. The grassy hollow soon faded and Tula’s ghosts hovered around us.

“There are too many,” Tula said in defeat. “I will never be rid of them.”

I drew my bow from its holder on my back and broke it into three pieces. Handing one to Tula and the other to Opal, I said, “You’re not alone. We’ll fight together.”

The ghosts attacked. They were tenacious and quick. I swung at them over and over until my arms felt like lead. A few of Tula’s horrors disappeared, others shrank, but some seemed to grow as they fought.

My energy drained at an alarming pace. I felt my bow become stuck inside one of the ghosts. The spirit expanded and consumed me. I screamed as the pain of being whipped racked my body.

“You’re weak. Tell me you’ll obey and I’ll stop,” a voice whispered in my ear.

“No.” Near panic I reached out for help. A powerful presence formed and handed me a full-size bow that pulsed with energy. Strength returned to me and I beat at the horror until it fled.

We had repelled the attack, but I could see that Tula’s ghosts prepared for another.

“Tula, this is merely the first battle in an ongoing war. It will take time and effort to be free of your fears, but you’ll have plenty of help from your family. Are you coming with us?” I asked.

She bit her lip, gazing at the piece of bow in her hands. Opal added her bow to Tula’s. Tula clutched them both close to her chest. “Yes. I’ll come.”

Tula’s mind filled with memories of her life. Vertigo twirled in my stomach as I broke my mental links with Tula and Opal. Relief descended, and I sank into blackness.

When I came to my senses, I felt hard stone against my back. For the third time I had collapsed on Tula’s floor. This time I had no hope of moving. My energy was completely depleted. After a while I noticed that someone gripped my hands. Strong fingers wrapped around mine, encompassing them with warmth.

With effort I opened my eyes to see who held me. Then I closed them tight. I must still be asleep. But after hearing Irys’s insistent calls, I looked again. And there sat my brother, holding my hands and sharing his energy with me.

17

WEARINESS LINED LEIF’S FACE. “You’re in big trouble,” he said.

His words didn’t seem malicious, just factual, and, as expected, past his shoulders, I saw Irys, Roze, Hayes and Bain all frowning at me. Leif released my hands, but remained on the floor beside me.

Roze eyed him, her displeasure evident in the tight twist of her lips. “You should have let her die,” she scolded him. “One less magician to taint our land with her incredible stupidity.”

“A little too harsh, Roze,” Bain said. “Though I agree about the stupidity. Child, why did you try that alone?” Bain asked.

I couldn’t even speak in my defense for I hadn’t the energy to form words, let alone try and explain myself.

“Cocky and stupid,” Roze said for me. “Since she cured Tula of her physical injuries, she must have believed she was an all-powerful magician and could do anything. The fool will probably be asking to take the Master level test next.” Roze snorted with disgust. “Maybe she’ll feel differently after we assign her to the first year’s barracks. There she can learn the basics of magic while scrubbing the floors, like every new student.”

I glanced at Irys. Roze’s punishment sounded horrible. Irys said nothing. Disapproval pulsed off her. I braced for an outburst.

Instead, Opal called, “Tula’s awake!”

I closed my eyes in relief as everyone focused on Tula. When I opened my eyes, the magicians had all disappeared from my view.

“You’re still headstrong and reckless; an out of control strangler fig,” Leif said. “I guess Ixia didn’t change everything about you.” He stood on shaking legs, and I watched him join the others by Tula’s bedside.

I puzzled over his comment. Good or bad? I couldn’t decide. But then Roze’s harsh voice jarred me out of my reflection. She bombarded Tula with questions about her attacker, but Tula wouldn’t answer. I cringed, knowing that Tula wasn’t up to Roze’s interrogation. Thank fate, Hayes intervened.

“Give her some time,” he said.

“There is no time,” Roze replied.

A thin raspy voice asked, “Who are all these people? Where’s Yelena? I can’t see her.”

“She’s here,” Opal said. “She’s just exhausted from helping you, Tullie.”

“Hayes, get some assistants and go dump the fool girl into another room,” Roze instructed. “She’s done enough damage for one day.”

When Hayes moved to obey, Tula said, “No. You leave. All of you. I won’t tell you anything. Yelena stays with me. I’ll talk to her.”

A mummer of irritation and discussion rumbled through the magicians before Roze agreed with reluctance to bring a bed in for me. Hayes and Irys hoisted me off the floor and dropped me without fanfare onto the mattress. Irys still hadn’t said a word, and her silence scared me.

“Child,” Bain said to Tula. “I understand your fear. You have awakened to a room full of strangers.” He then introduced everyone in the room. “First Magician and Leif are the ones you need to tell about your abduction. They will find your kidnapper.”

Tula pulled the sheet up to her chin. “I’ll tell Yelena. No one else. She’ll take care of him.”

Roze’s harsh laughter scraped in my ears. “She can’t even talk! If your attacker walked into this room, he would kill you both.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re not thinking clearly. I’ll be back in the morning, and you will talk to me. Come, Leif.” Roze strode out the door with Leif on her heels.

Hayes shooed everyone else out. As the door closed, I heard Bain tell Irys to assign an extra guard for the evening. A good idea. If Goel came in, I couldn’t prevent him from carrying out his promises to torture me.

Apprehension about being so helpless crawled along my spine. A similar situation that haunted Tula. One of her many ghosts was being at the mercy of another. Her promise to tell me everything weighed on my mind; I had just gotten rid of my own ghost. Though, I hated to admit, Reyad still retained some power. Whenever I had doubts, he seemed to enjoy visiting my nightmares. Or did he cause them? Or did I invite him?

To distract myself from such troublesome thoughts, I tried to muster some energy to talk to Tula, but exhaustion claimed me instead and I sank into a deep dreamless sleep.

I felt a little better in the morning, but had only enough strength to sit up in bed. At least I could ask Tula how she felt.

She closed her eyes. Pointing to her temple she said, “Come.”

I sighed with regret. “I don’t have the energy to link our minds, Tula.”

“Perhaps I can help,” Leif said from the doorway.

“No! Go away.” Tula shielded her face with her arms.

“If you don’t talk to me, First Magician will come and take the information she needs from you,” Leif explained.

Tula peeked out at me in confusion.

“It won’t be pleasant,” I said. “It’s almost as bad as what your attacker did to you. I know.”

Leif averted his eyes. I hoped he felt guilty. Studying him closer, I wondered why he had aided me the day before. What had happened to his smirk? Where was his derision and condescension? I realized I barely knew this man.

Not wanting to guess his motives anymore, I demanded, “Why did you help me?”

A scowl gripped his face, but, with a sigh, he smoothed his features, shuttering his emotions. “Mother would kill me if I had let you die,” he said.

He turned to Tula, but I refused to let him get away with such a flippant response. “What’s the real reason?”

Hatred blazed in Leif’s jade eyes, but a second later his posture softened, as if someone had blown out a candle. He whispered, “I couldn’t bear to do nothing and lose you again.”

Then, his mental defenses dropped and I heard his thoughts. I still hate you.

His trust surprised me, though his petulant comment failed to concern me. An emotion, even hatred, was better than apathy. Could this be a first step in bridging the distance between us?

“What did he say?” Tula asked.

“He wants to help you,” I said. “Tula, this is my brother. Without him we wouldn’t have gotten you back. If you want me to find your attacker, I’ll need his strength.”

“But, he’ll see. He’ll know about…” Tula squeezed her arms together.

“I already know,” Leif said.

He pulled Tula’s arms away from her face with a gentleness that amazed me. I thought back to my mother’s comments about Leif’s magic. She had said he helped with crimes, sensing a person’s guilt and history. Now, as I watched him with Tula, I wanted to know more about him and how he used his magic.

“We need to find him and stop him from hurting another girl,” Leif explained.

She swallowed and bit her lip before nodding. Leif stood between our beds, took Tula’s hand, and reached for mine. I reclined on the mattress and grabbed his hand. Then, using his energy, I formed a mental link with Tula.

In her mind, the two of us stood by a gray stone furnace. Leif’s power roared around us like the fire under the kiln.

“I was here, putting coal into the furnace. It was close to midnight when…” She clutched her apron. Black soot streaked the white fabric. “A dark cloth wrapped around my face. Before I could scream, I felt a sharp stab in my arm. Then…then…” Tula stopped speaking.

On our mental stage, she stepped toward me. I hugged her trembling body, and within the space of a breath I became Tula, witnessing my own abduction.

Numbness spread from the stab wound, freezing my muscles. Dizziness was the only indication I’d been moved. Time passed. When the cloth was removed from my face, I was lying inside a tent. Unable to move, I stared up at a lean man with short brown hair that was streaked with gold. He wore only a red mask. Strange crimson symbols had been painted all over his sand-colored skin. He held four wooden stakes, rope and a mallet. Feeling returned to my limbs.

“Tula, no. I can’t,” I said in my mind. I knew what horrors threatened to come. I lacked the strength to endure them with her right now. “Just show him to me.”

She froze the image of the man so I could study the symbols. The circular patterns resided within bigger patterns of animals. Triangles traced down his smooth arms and legs. Though thin, he radiated power.

A complete stranger to Tula, everything about him seemed foreign to her. Even the harsh way he pronounced her name, emphasizing the la, sounded odd. But he knew her. Knew the names of her sisters and parents. Knew how they melted sand, working it into glass.

Then, in a whirl of sound and color, she showed me the man at different times. She wasn’t permitted to leave the tent, but whenever he entered or left, Tula caught a glimpse of the outside, a tease of freedom. Long thick grass filled the whole view.

When he came to her, he always wore a mask. Letting the numbness in her body wear off before beating or raping her. Letting her feel the pain he applied with seeming reverence. After he finished the torture, he took a thorn and scratched her skin.

Puzzled at first by this action, Tula soon learned to dread and to crave the ointment he would rub into the thorn’s bleeding gash. It was the numbing lotion that would paralyze her, taking away all her pain and any chance she might have to escape.

The ointment, though, had a strong crisp scent, similar to the sharp smell of alcohol mixed with a citrus perfume. The aroma remained around me like a poisonous fog as Leif’s energy waned. He broke the magical connection to Tula.

“That smell…” Leif said as he perched on the edge of my bed. “I couldn’t get a good whiff. All my effort went into keeping you and Tula connected.”

“It’s horrible,” Tula said, shuddering. “I shall never forget it.”

“What about those symbols?” I asked Leif. “Did you recognize them?”

“Not really. Though there are some clans that use symbols for rituals.”

“Rituals?” Dread coiled in my stomach.

“Wedding ceremonies and naming rituals.” Leif scowled in concentration. “Thousands of years ago, magicians used to perform intricate rituals. They believed that magical power came from a deity, and if they tattooed their bodies and showed the proper respect, they would be granted greater power. Now we know better. I’ve seen some symbols painted on faces and hands before, but not like the ones on Tula’s attacker.”

Leif pulled his black hair back behind his head with both hands. With his elbows jutting out past his face, his posture seemed so familiar. I felt like I could transport back to a time when my concerns only focused on what game to play next. The faint childhood memory dissolved with my efforts to concentrate on it.

Tula covered her eyes, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. Reliving the kidnapping and the torment had to be grueling.

“Get some rest,” Leif told her. “I’ll come back later. Perhaps Second Magician will know something about those symbols.” He left the room.

The morning’s events had drained my own small supply of energy. I knew words would give no comfort to Tula, so I was relieved when Opal came in. Seeing her sister’s concern, Tula sobbed loudly, and Opal crawled into the bed with her, held Tula close and rocked her like a baby. I fell asleep listening to Tula purge her body of the masked man’s poison.

We had visitors throughout the rest of the day. Cahil came, smelling of the barn.

“How’s Kiki?” I asked, missing her. Even though my connection with her remained, I couldn’t produce enough power to hear her thoughts.

“A little agitated. All the horses are. The Stable Master’s been in one of his tempers. Horses take their cues from people’s emotions. If a rider is nervous, then the horse will be, too.” Cahil shook his head. “I still have a hard time believing you can communicate with them. Guess today is just one of those days where my notions are proven wrong.”

“Why’s that?”

“I thought you were an overconfident braggart when you said you could help Tula. But you did it.” Cahil studied me.

I conceded the overconfidence title. My rescue of Commander Ambrose’s soul had seemed easy in comparison to Tula’s, but I had forgotten that Irys had been with me in the Commander’s room, and it had been his superior fighting skills and determination that had gotten us free of his demons.

“You almost killed yourself saving Tula, though,” Cahil said. “Was it worth the risk to prove me wrong again?”

“My motivations weren’t selfish,” I snapped at him. “I wanted to help her. I understood what she’s been through and I knew she needed me. Once I had an idea about how I could find her, I didn’t stop to think. I just reacted.”

“And the danger to yourself never entered your mind?”

“Not this time.” I sighed at his aghast expression.

“You have put yourself in danger for others before?”

“I was the Commander’s food taster.” This was common knowledge, unlike my role in stopping Brazell.

Cahil nodded. “A perfect position to overhear the Commander’s plans. He used you as a shield. You should want to help overthrow him. Why do you hold such loyalty for him?” Frustration roughened his voice.

“Because of my position, I saw through his reputation. I witnessed kindness and a deep concern for his people. He didn’t abuse his power, and, while he is far from perfect, he always stayed faithful to his beliefs. Reliable and true to his word, you never had to guess at hidden meanings or suspect duplicity from him.”

His stubbornness refused to soften. “You’ve been brainwashed, Yelena. Hopefully, you’ll regain some sense after living in Sitia for a while.” Cahil left without waiting for a reply.

Our conversation had drained me. I drifted in and out of an uneasy sleep the rest of that afternoon. The masked man invaded my dreams, hunting me through a thick jungle.

Toward evening Dax Greenblade surged into the room, energizing the air.

“You look like hell,” he said to me in a low voice. Tula and Opal had fallen asleep in Tula’s narrow bed.

“Gee, Dax, don’t coat it with honey. Tell me what you really think,” I said.

He covered his mouth to mute his laughter. “I figured I’d hit you while you were down, because once you hear the rumors that have been flying through the campus like bare feet on hot sand, your ego will think it’s a compliment.” In a grand gesture, Dax swept his arms into the air. “You have become a legend!”

“A legend? Me?” Disbelief colored my voice.

“A scary legend,” he amended, “but a legend all the same.”

“Come on! How gullible do you think I am?”

“Simple enough to think you can find someone’s consciousness alone.” Dax waved a hand over my bed. “Although, it’s not so stupid if this was an attempt to get out of class. But if you see your fellow students scurrying to get out of your way, now you know why. Here comes Yelena, the all powerful Soulfinder!”

I threw my pillow at Dax. His magic brushed my skin as the pillow veered to the right and struck the wall with a soft thump before sliding to the floor. I glanced at the girls. They appeared to be asleep.

“Now you’re exaggerating,” I said.

“Can you blame me? Cursed with the ability to read and speak archaic languages, Master Bain has me translating ancient history. Very dry and dull.” Dax retrieved my pillow and even fluffed it before returning it to me.

When Leif entered the room carrying a large square box, Dax leaned close to me and whispered, “Speaking of dull…”

I suppressed a chuckle. Dax left as Leif began to unpack small brown vials. The clink of glass woke Tula and Opal. Tula eyed the bottles with obvious alarm.

“What are those?” I asked Leif.

“Scent vials,” he said. “Each one contains a specific odor. Mother and Father helped me make these. Smells trigger memories, which aid me in finding criminals. But I figured I could use this kit as a start in determining the ointment that Tula’s attacker used.”

Interested, Tula tried to sit up. Opal got off the bed to help her. Leif rummaged through his collection of about thirty vials until he had lined up ten of them.

“We’ll try these first.” He uncorked one and passed it under my nose. “Breathe normally.”

I wrinkled my nose and sneezed. “No. That’s awful.”

A small smile touched Leif’s face as he put that vial away.

“Leif?” Tula asked. “What about me?”

He hesitated. “You’ve done so much already; I didn’t want to exhaust you.”

“I want to help, too. Better than lying here doing nothing.”

“All right.” He had us sniff three more vials. Tula and I each smelled different ones, and then we took a break for dinner.

“Too many scents will give you a headache, and you won’t be able to tell the difference between them after a while,” he explained.

Leif spent the evening with us. My interest began to wane, but he kept at it even when he neared the bottom of the box. I was on the edge of sleep when a sharp odor jolted me.

Leif held an uncorked bottle. Tula cowered in her bed, her hands raised as though she tried to deflect a blow. Leif squinted in confusion.

“That’s it,” I cried. “Can’t you smell it?”

He passed the vial under his nose, breathing in the pungent scent. Then he shoved the cork back in, flipped the bottle over, and read the label. He stared at me in shock.

“It makes perfect sense!” His mouth opened in horror.

“What?” I demanded. “Tell me.”

“It’s Curare.” When he saw my confusion he continued, “Comes from a vine that grows in the Illiais Jungle. It paralyzes the muscles. It’s great for numbing toothaches, and for relieving minor pain. To freeze a whole body, the medicine would have to be very concentrated.” Leif’s eyes flashed in dismay.

“Why are you so upset?” I asked. “Now you know what it is. Isn’t that good?”

“Curare was rediscovered just last year. Only a handful of Zaltanas know about its properties. Our clan likes to know everything about a substance before selling it to others.”

Understanding flooded my mind. Leif believed that the red-painted man could be from our clan.

“Who found the Curare?” I asked.

Still upset, Leif turned the vial in his hands.

“Father,” he said. “And the only person I can think of who has the skills to concentrate the Curare enough to paralyze a whole body, is Mother.”

18

I SAT UP IN BED. “Leif, you don’t really believe…” I couldn’t bring myself to conjecture aloud. To say that Esau and Perl, our parents, might have some connection to this horrid murderer.

Leif shook his head. “No. But someone close to them, perhaps.”

Another dreadful thought came to mind. “Are they in danger?”

“I don’t know.” Leif began to pack his scent vials into their box. “I need to talk to our clan leader. Somehow, the Curare must have been stolen. That one of our clan is…” Seeming lost for words, Leif banged the box’s top down. “Compromised? Saying we have a spy sounds too dramatic even for me.” Leif gave me a rueful grin. “I doubt our leader will even believe me.” He grabbed his kit and rushed from the room.

Tula, who had remained quiet during our conversation, asked, “Could Ferde…” She swallowed. “Could my attacker be from the Zaltana Clan?”

“Ferde? Is that his name?”

She covered her face with a hand. “No. That’s just what I named him. I hid that from you. I was embarrassed.” She stopped and took a deep breath, glancing at her sister.

Opal yawned and said she needed to get some sleep. She kissed Tula on the cheek and pulled the covers up to Tula’s chin before leaving.

After a few moments of silence, I said, “You don’t have to explain.”

“I want to, talking helps. Ferde is short for Fer-de-lance. A poisonous viper that hunts for prey by seeking heat. We used to get them in our factory all the time. They were drawn to the kilns. One killed my uncle. Anytime one of us would go out to the factory, my mother would say, ‘Be careful. Don’t let Ferde get you.’ My older sister and I used to scare Opal by telling her Ferde was coming for her.” Tula made a small sound as tears tracked down her face. “I have to apologize to Opal for being so mean. It’s funny…” She choked out. “I was the one taken by Ferde, but if I’d had a choice, I would have rather been bitten by the real snake.”

I couldn’t find any words of comfort for Tula.

Later that night, Bain arrived. He carried a lantern, and Dax, ladened with a large leather-covered book and rolls of paper, followed him into the room. Yet another roll of paper was tucked under Bain’s arm. He lit the lanterns in the room until the air blazed with candlelight. Bain wore the same purple robe he had worn the day before. Without preamble, he spread the paper across my bed. My stomach clenched when I looked at the scroll. The symbols I had seen tattooed on Ferde’s body covered the parchment.

Bain watched my reaction closely. “These, then, are the right symbols?”

I nodded. “Where..?”

Bain took the book from Dax, and for once the young man’s face held a serious expression.

“This ancient text written in the Efe language tells of magic symbols from long ago. It reports that these symbols were so powerful that they could not be drawn in the book, for to do so would call the power. But, fortunate for us, they describe them in detail. And fortunate, too, Dax was able to translate the Efe language into these.” Bain gestured to the paper.

“That’s some progress,” I said.

Dax flashed a smile. “My talents are finally being used for a good cause.”

Bain gave Dax a stern look. Dax sobered.

“The order of the symbols is very important,” Bain explained, “for they weave a story. If you can tell us where they were on the killer’s body, we might be able to discern what motivates him.”

I studied the sheet, trying to remember where Ferde had painted the markings on his body. “There are some patterns on him that aren’t on this paper,” I said.

“Here,” Tula said. Her eyes were closed. Even though her arm trembled, she held out her right hand. “I know them by heart.”

Bain handed her the paper as Dax put his rolls on the floor. Unrolling one, he began to sketch an outline of a man on the sheet with a slender piece of charcoal. Tula stared at the symbols for a moment then she recited their order. Starting with Ferde’s left shoulder; she worked her way across his body to his right shoulder, then continued left to right like lines of words in a book.

When Tula came to a symbol that wasn’t on Bain’s sheet, I drew it on a piece of scrap paper for Dax. Even though my drawings looked clumsy compared to his, he was able to duplicate my efforts on his paper.

Tula stuttered in embarrassment when she reached Ferde’s groin. Bain squeezed her hand and made a comment about how the man must have suffered for his art. A single chuckle burst from Tula. By her expression, I knew the brief laugh had surprised her. I suppressed a smile; Tula had started on the long road of recovery.

Tula had memorized the symbols on her attacker’s back. I cringed, remembering that she had spent almost two weeks as his prisoner. She also recalled other things about him—the scars on his ankles, the size of his hands, the red dirt under his fingernails, the shape and soft fabric of his red mask, and his ears.

“Why his ears?” Bain asked.

Tula shut her eyes and, even though her voice quavered, explained that each time he had staked her to the ground and thrust deep inside her, he turned his head to avoid looking into her eyes. To block out the pain, Tula focused on his ear. The first time he raped her, Tula bit him on the right ear. She recalled feeling a moment of satisfaction when the hot metallic taste of his blood filled her mouth.

“A tiny victory for me,” Tula said then shuddered so fiercely her bed shook. “I never did it again.”

Dax, who had been drawing Tula’s every description from his spot on the floor, smoothed his horrified expression before giving her his sketch.

After some minor corrections, Tula handed the paper to Bain. “That’s him,” she said.

The effort had sapped so much of her strength that Tula fell asleep before Dax could gather his supplies.

I touched Bain’s sleeve. “Can I ask you something?”

The magician glanced at his apprentice.

“I’ll wait for you in your tower,” Dax said to him. He left.

“You can always ask. No need to get permission, child.”

I shook my head at the endearment. With only a bit of my strength returning, I felt ancient. I had no energy to correct him, though I doubt it would do me any good. He tended to call everyone child, even Irys, and she was twice my age.

“Irys hasn’t come to visit. Is she still angry with me?”

“I would not use the word angry. Furious or livid comes closer to the truth.”

My face must have reflected my terror because Bain laid a soothing hand over mine.

“You must remember that you are her student. Your actions reflect her skills as a teacher. What you did with Tula was extremely dangerous. You could have killed Tula, Opal, Leif and yourself. You did not consult Irys or seek her help, relying solely on yourself.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Bain raised a forestalling hand. “A skill, I am sure, you learned in Ixia. No one to help you. No one to trust. You did what you had to do to survive. Am I not correct?” Bain didn’t wait for my reply. “But you are not in the north anymore. Here you have friends, colleagues and others to guide you and to help you. Sitia is very different from Ixia. No one person rules. We have a Council that represents our people. We debate and decide together. This is something you need to learn, and Irys needs to teach you. When she understands why you acted as you did, she will not be so upset.”

“How long will that take?”

Bain smiled. “Not long. Irys is like the volcanoes in the Emerald Mountains. She might emit some steam, spit some lava, but she is quick to cool. She probably would have visited today, but a messenger arrived from Ixia this afternoon.”

“A messenger?” I tried to get out of bed, but my legs wouldn’t hold my weight. I ended up on the floor.

Bain tsked at me, calling Hayes to help me into bed.

When Hayes left, I asked again, “What messenger? Tell me.”

“Council business.” The magician made a shooing motion with his hand as if the entire topic bored him. “Something about an Ixian ambassador and his retinue requesting permission to visit Sitia.”

An Ixian ambassador coming here? I mulled over the implications, as Bain, anxious to translate the killer’s tattoos, hastened to leave the room.

“Bain,” I called as he opened the door. “When are the Ixians coming?”

“I do not know. I am sure Irys will tell you when she comes.”

When. At this point, I felt if was the better word. Waiting for her became intolerable. I hated just lying there, being so helpless. Irys must have sensed my agitation.

Yelena, I heard her voice in my mind. Relax. Conserve your strength.

But I need—

To get a good night’s sleep. Or I shall tell you nothing. Understand?

Her firm tone left me no chance to argue. Yes, sir.

I tried to settle my mind. Instead of obsessing about when the northern delegation would arrive, I thought about who Commander Ambrose would send as his ambassador. He wouldn’t risk one of his generals; sending an aide seemed more logical.

Valek would be my choice, but the Sitians wouldn’t trust him, and he would be in too much danger. Cahil and his men would try to kill him for assassinating the former King of Ixia. But would they succeed? That would depend on how many attacked him at one time.

I imagined Valek countering strikes with his typical grace and speed, but huge green leaves began to obscure the image in my mind. The leaves blocked my view and soon vegetation surrounded me. I fought my way through the dense jungle, searching for Valek. My pace increased as the awareness of being chased pressed on my back. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted a long tan snake with red markings slithering after me.

Catching glimpses of Valek through the trees, I shouted and called to him for help. But thick vines from the jungle had ensnared his torso and legs. He hacked at them with his sword, but the vines continued to wrap around him until they covered his arms, as well. I pushed toward him, but a sharp pinch in my thigh stopped me.

The viper had wrapped around my leg. His fangs dripped Curare. Blood welled from the two small holes in my pants. The drug spread through my body. I screamed until the poison froze my voice.

“Yelena, wake up.”

Someone shook my shoulder hard.

“It’s just a dream. Come on, wake up.”

I blinked at Leif. A frown anchored his face. His short black hair stuck out at odd angles, and he had dark smudges under his eyes. I glanced at Tula. Propped up on one elbow, she looked at me with concern in her brown eyes.

“Is Valek in trouble?” she asked me.

Leif’s gaze jumped to Tula. “Why are you asking about him?” he demanded.

“Yelena was trying to help him when she was bitten by the snake.”

“You saw it?” I asked.

She nodded. “I dream of the snake every night, but Valek’s new. He must be from your dreams.”

Leif turned back to me. “You know him?”

“I…” I closed my mouth. Choosing my words with care, I said, “As the Commander’s food taster, I saw him every day.”

Leif blinked. The red flush of annoyance drained from his face. “I know nothing about your life in Ixia,” he said.

“That was entirely your choice.”

“I don’t think I could stand the extra guilt.” Leif turned his face away, staring at the wall.

“You shouldn’t feel any guilt now that you know I was kidnapped. There was nothing you could do,” I said, but he refused to meet my questioning gaze.

“Isn’t she your sister?” Tula asked into the silence. She wrinkled her nose, squinting in confusion.

“It’s a long complicated story,” I said.

Tula settled her head on the pillow, and then squirmed around under the covers as though she were seeking a more comfortable position. “We have plenty of time.”

“We have no time,” Irys said from the doorway. “Leif, are you ready?” “Yes.”

Irys took a step inside the room. “Then go help Cahil with the horses.”

“But I was going to—”

“Explain what is going on,” I demanded, sitting up.

“No time. Bain will fill you in.”

Irys and Leif turned to leave.

Fury bloomed in my chest. Without thought, I pulled power and directed it toward them. “Stop.”

They both froze in place until I released them. I slumped in bed. My outburst had sapped what little strength I had.

Irys returned to my bedside. An odd mixture of anger and admiration on her face. “Feeling better?”

“No.”

“Leif, go,” Irys said. “I’ll catch up in a moment.”

He shot me a rueful glance on his way out. Leif’s way of saying goodbye, I guessed.

Irys perched on the edge of my bed and pushed me back onto the pillow. “You’ll never get better if you keep using magic.”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t stand being so—”

“Helpless.” A wry smile bent Irys’s mouth. “It’s your own fault. At least, that’s what Roze keeps telling me. She wants me to assign you to a season of kitchen duty as punishment for rescuing Tula.”

“She should be rewarded, not punished,” Tula said.

Irys held her hand up. “Advice I won’t be taking. In fact, I believe that your current situation is bad enough that you’ll think twice next time you’re tempted to use more magic than you can handle. And being stuck here while Cahil, Leif and I travel to the Avibian Plains to visit the Sandseed Clan is sufficient punishment.”

“What happened?” I asked.

Irys softened her voice, her words just louder than a whisper. “Last night Leif and I asked Bavol, the Zaltana’s Councilman about the Curare. It did come from your parents. They made a large batch and had it delivered to the Sandseed Clan.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

“According to Bavol, Esau had read about a substance that paralyzes muscles in a history book about the nomadic tribes of the Avibian Plains. So, Esau traveled to the Sandseed Clan and found a healer named Gede who knew a little about this substance. In the Sandseed Clan, information is orally passed down from one healer to the next, and sometimes knowledge is lost. Esau and Gede searched the jungle for the Curare vine and, once found, they had Perl help them extract the drug. It’s a time-consuming process so Gede returned to the plains, and Esau promised to send him some Curare as a gift for helping him.” Irys stood. “So, now we are going to find out what Gede did with his Curare since Councilor Harun Sandseed didn’t know.”

“I must come!” I struggled to sit up, but my arm refused to hold my weight.

Irys watched me impassively. When I stopped, she asked, “Why?”

“Because I know the killer. I’ve seen him in Tula’s mind. He might be with the clan.”

She shook her head. “We have Dax’s drawing and Leif caught a glimpse of the man when he helped you connect your mind to Tula’s.” Irys reached out and smoothed my hair from my face. Her hand felt cool against my hot skin. “Besides, you’re not strong enough. Stay. Rest. Grow strong again. I have a great deal to teach you when I return.” She hesitated, then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.

My protests froze on my lips. My reason for being at the Keep was to learn, and already I felt as if I had gone off course, but visiting the Sandseeds could be an educational experience. Why wasn’t anything simple?

Irys reached the door when I remembered to ask her about the Ixian delegation.

Pausing at the threshold, she said, “The Council has agreed to a meeting. The messenger left this morning to deliver our reply to Ixia.”

She shut the door, leaving me to ponder all that she had told me.

“Ixia,” Tula said with wonder. “Do you think Valek will escape the vines and come with the delegation?”

“Tula, that was a nightmare.”

“But it seemed so real,” she insisted.

“Bad dreams are ghosts of our fears and worries, haunting us while we sleep. I doubt Valek is in trouble.”

My thoughts, though, lingered on the image of Valek trapped. It had seemed real. I gritted my teeth in frustration and impatience. Irys had been right, lying here unable to do anything was far worse than scrubbing the kitchen.

Taking some deep breaths, I calmed my mind, cleansing out my worries and irritation. I focused on my last night with Valek in Ixia. A cherished memory.

I must have drifted off to sleep because I felt Valek’s presence. A strong cloud of energy surrounded me.

You need help, love? he asked in my dream.

I need you. I need love. I need energy. I need you.

His regret pulsed in my heart. I can’t come. You already have my love. But I can give you my strength.

No! You’ll be helpless for days! The image of Valek tangled in vines leaped into my mind.

I’ll be fine. The power twins are with me. They’ll protect me. Valek showed me an image of Ari and Janco, my friends in Ixia, guarding his tent. They camped in the Snake Forest, participating in a military exercise.

Before I could stop him, power washed over me, soaking into my body.

Good luck, love.

“Valek,” I yelled out loud. He disappeared.

“What was that?” Tula asked.

“A dream.” But I felt rejuvenated. I stood on my now steady legs, marveling.

Tula stared. “It wasn’t a dream. I saw a light and—”

I made a sudden decision and bolted for the door. “I have to go.”

“Where?” Tula demanded.

“To catch up with Irys.”

19

THE TWO MEN GUARDING our room jumped in surprise when I sprinted out the door. I raced toward the stable before my mind could slow me down with logic, but I arrived too late. The yard was empty.

Kiki poked her head out of her stall. Lavender Lady better?

Yes, much better. I stroked her nose. I missed the others. When did they leave?

Some chews of hay. We catch up.

I studied Kiki’s blue eyes. She presented an interesting idea. Even if I had caught up to Irys before they left, there was no guarantee that she would have let me go with them to the Avibian Plains.

Kiki pawed the ground with impatience. Go.

I thought fast. Perhaps it would be better if I followed Irys and Leif to the plains, revealing myself only when we traveled too far for her to send me back to the Keep.

I need supplies, I told Kiki. On the way to my room, I made a mental list of everything I would need. My backpack and bow, my switchblade, my cloak, some clothes and food. Money perhaps.

After gathering what I could from my room, I locked the door, turned to go and bumped into Dax.

“Look who’s vertical,” he said. A wide smile spread across his lips. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. After all, you are a living legend.”

Shaking my head, I said, “Dax, I don’t have time to exchange barbs with you.”

“Why?”

I paused, realizing that taking off on my own would be yet another black mark against me. An Ixian decision. But getting information from the Sandseeds was too important for me to worry about the consequences. I told Dax about my plans. “Can you tell Second Magician where I’ve gone? I don’t want Bain combing the Keep for me.”

“You’re on the fast path to expulsion,” Dax warned. “I’ve lost count of points against you.” He paused, considering. “Doesn’t matter now. How long of a head start do you want?”

I glanced at the sky. Midafternoon. “Till dark.” The timing still left Bain a slight chance to send someone to retrieve me, but I hoped he would wait until the morning.

“Done. I’d wish you good luck, but I don’t think it would help.”

“Why not?”

“My lady, you make your own luck.” Then he shooed me away. “Go.”

I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed enough bread, cheese and dried meat to last for ten days. Captain Marrok had said the Avibian Plains were vast and it took ten days to cross them. If the Sandseed Clan lived on the far side, I would have enough food to reach them, and I hoped I could buy more for the return trip.

With my thoughts focused on supplies, I raced toward the barn. As I approached, Kiki snorted in agitation, and I opened my mind to her.

Bad smell, she warned.

I spun in time to see Goel rush me. Before I could react, the point of his sword stopped mere inches from my stomach.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“What are you doing here?”

“Little birdie told me you flew the coop. It wasn’t hard to track you.”

The guards outside Tula’s room must have alerted Goel. I sighed. My distraction while collecting supplies had made me an easy target.

“Okay, Goel. Let’s make this quick.” I took a step back and reached for my bow, but Goel moved forward. The point of his sword cut through my shirt and pricked my skin just as my hands found the smooth wood of my staff.

“Freeze!” he shouted.

I huffed more in annoyance than fear. I didn’t have time for this. “Too scared for a fair fight? Ow!” The sword’s tip jabbed into my stomach.

“Drop your bow to the ground. Slowly,” he ordered.

He nudged his sword tip deeper when I hesitated. In slow motion, I pulled my bow from its strap, keeping Goel’s attention on me because out of the corner of my eye I saw Kiki open the latch on her stall’s door with her teeth.

The door thumped open. Goel turned his head at the noise. Kiki spun, aimed her hind legs. I scurried back a few paces.

Not too hard, I told her.

Bad man. She kicked him.

Goel flew through the air and slammed against the pasture’s wooden fence. Then he crumpled in a heap. When he didn’t move, I approached and felt for a pulse. Still alive. I had mixed feelings about his survival. Would he ever give up or would he keep coming after me until he had caught me or until I had killed him?

Kiki interrupted my thoughts. Go.

I retrieved her tack and began to saddle her. As I tightened the girth straps around her chest, I asked, Could you always open your door?

Yes. Fence, too.

Why don’t you?

Hay sweet. Water fresh. Peppermints.

I laughed and made sure to take some mints from Cahil’s supply, packing them into my bag. I hooked five feed bags and water bags for her onto the saddle along with my own food and water skins.

Too heavy? I asked.

She looked at me with scorn. No. Leave now. Topaz scent going.

I mounted. We left the Magician’s Keep and headed through the Citadel. Kiki stepped with care as she walked along the crowded streets of the market. I spotted Fisk, my beggar boy, carrying a huge package for a lady. He smiled and tried to wave. His clean black hair shone in the sun and the hollow smudges under his eyes were gone. A beggar no longer. Fisk found a job.

When we passed under the massive marble arches that marked the gateway of the Citadel, Kiki picked up her pace, breaking into a gallop. The view sped past as we traveled along the main valley road that led from the Citadel to the forest.

Harvest activity buzzed in the fields to our right. On the left, the Avibian Plains flowed out to the horizon. The colors of the tall grasses had transformed from the greens and blues of the hot season into reds, yellows and oranges as though someone had taken a giant paintbrush and swabbed large bands of color across the landscape.

The plains appeared deserted, and I saw no signs of wildlife. Only the colors rippled in the wind. When Kiki turned to enter the plains, I spotted a faint trail cutting through the grass.

The long blades rubbed against my legs and Kiki’s stomach. Kiki relaxed her pace. I touched her mind. We were on the right path, and the strong scent of horses filled her nose. She picked out each one by their smell. Silk. Topaz. Rusalka.

Rusalka?

Sad Man’s.

Confused at first, it took me a moment to realize Sad Man was Kiki’s name for Leif. From what I had gathered from Kiki, when a horse meets someone for the first time their immediate impression becomes that person’s horse name and they relayed it to other horses. Apparently it doesn’t change. To the horses, it made sense. They gave us names just like we had given them names.

Other horses? I asked.

No.

Other men?

No.

Surprised that Cahil hadn’t taken some of his men with him, I wondered why. Cahil had skirted the plains on our trip to the Citadel, afraid of the Sandseeds even when traveling with twelve men. I guess he felt safer having a Master Magician accompany him. Either that, or Irys had insisted he leave his watchdogs at the Keep.

As we advanced farther into the plains, I realized that the surrounding grassland hid many things. Despite appearing flat, the terrain rolled like a messy blanket. I looked back the way we had come and couldn’t see the farmland. Clusters of gray rocks peppered the plains, an occasional tree rose up from the grass, and I glimpsed field mice and small animals darting away from Kiki’s hooves.

We passed a strange crimson-colored rock formation. White veined the single stone, whose top tier loomed above my head. The thick squarish profile of the structure reminded me of something. I scanned my memory and realized the rock resembled a human heart. The fact that I had recalled my lessons surprised me. Biology at Brazell’s orphanage had been my least favorite subject. The teacher had delighted in making his students sick to their stomachs.

When the light over the plains began to fade and the air chilled, the thought of spending a night in such an exposed place made me uneasy.

Catch up? Kiki asked.

Are we close?

The pungent smell of horses mixed with a thin scent of smoke. Through Kiki’s eyes, I could see a distant fire.

They stop.

I weighed my options. A night alone or the possibility of facing Irys’s anger if I joined her. Not used to sitting in the saddle for more than an hour, my legs and back ached. I needed a break. Kiki, though, could travel much longer. Pulling power, I projected my awareness, feeling for the overall mood of the campsite.

Cahil gripped the handle of his sword; the wide-open sky alarmed him. Leif lounged on the ground almost asleep. Irys—

Yelena! Her outrage seared my mind.

Decision made. Before she could demand an explanation, I showed her what had happened between Valek and me.

Impossible.

The word triggered a memory. You said the same thing when I reached out to Valek to help me against Roze’s mental probing. Perhaps there is something connecting us that you haven’t encountered?

Perhaps, she conceded. Come, join us. It’s too late to send you home. And you can’t go back to the Keep without me to help you against Roze’s wrath.

With that sobering thought, I told Kiki to find the campsite. She felt glad, though, when we reached Topaz. He grazed with the other horses near the camp.

I removed Kiki’s tack, rubbed her down and made sure she had enough food and water. Reluctance and sore muscles made my movements slow.

When I finally joined Irys in the small clearing where they had stopped for the night, she only asked me if I needed dinner. I glanced at the others. Leif stirred a pot of soup cooking over the flames. He wore a neutral expression. Cahil’s hand now hovered near his sword handle; he seemed more relaxed about the night sky. He grinned when he met my gaze. He was either glad about my arrival, or was anticipating the entertainment from the reprimand I was certain to receive from Irys.

Instead, Irys lectured Cahil and me on the proper way to interact with the Sandseed Clan members.

“Respect of the elders is a must,” she said. “All requests are to be made to the elders, but only after they invite us to speak. They don’t trust outsiders and will watch for any sign of disregard or any indication that you are spying on them. So don’t ask questions unless given permission and don’t stare.”

“Why would we stare?” I asked.

“They don’t like to wear clothes. Some members will dress when outsiders are visiting, but others won’t.” Irys smiled ruefully. “Also they have a few powerful magicians. They aren’t Keep trained, they teach their own. Although a few of their younger magicians have come to the Keep, seeking to enhance their knowledge. Kangom was one of these, but he didn’t stay at the Keep for long.” Irys frowned.

Unfortunately, I knew where he had gone from there. He changed his name to Mogkan and started kidnapping children, smuggling them into Ixia.

Before Cahil could voice his questions about Mogkan, I asked Irys, “What about the Sandseed magicians that stay with the clan?”

“They call them Story Weavers,” Irys explained. “They hold the clan’s history. The Sandseeds believe their history is a living entity, like an invisible presence that surrounds them. Since the clan’s story is always evolving, the Story Weavers guide the clan.”

“How do they guide them?” Cahil asked with concern.

“They mediate disputes, help in decision making, they show the clan members their past and aid them in avoiding the same mistakes. Very similar to what the Master Magicians do for the people of Sitia.”

“They soothe a troubled heart,” Leif said, staring into the flames. “Or so they claim.” Then he stood abruptly. “The soup’s done. Who’s hungry?”

We ate in silence. After we arranged sleeping areas for the evening, Irys informed us that we would be on the road for one more night before we reached the clan’s dwellings.

Cahil wanted to make a night watch schedule. “I’ll take the first shift,” he offered.

Irys just looked at him.

“It makes sense,” he said in his defense.

“Cahil, there is nothing to fear. And if trouble heads in our direction, I will wake you long before it arrives,” Irys said.

I hid my smile as I watched Cahil pout. I wrapped my cloak around me against the cold night air and lay on the soft sandy ground of the clearing. I checked with Kiki. Everything okay?

Grass sweet. Crunchy.

Bad smells?

No. Nice air. Home.

I remembered now that Kiki had been bred by the Sandseeds. Nice to be home? I thought of Valek in the Snake Forest, and hoped he had regained some of his strength.

Yes. Nicer with Lavender Lady. Peppermints? Hopeful.

In the morning, I promised.

I gazed up at the night sky, watching the stars dance while waiting for sleep. Kiki’s view of life sounded right. Good food, fresh water, an occasional sweet and someone to care for. That’s what everyone should have. A simplistic and unrealistic view I knew, but it soothed me.

My thoughts, though, drifted into strange dreams. I ran through the plains, searching for Kiki. The knee-high grass grew until it reached above my head and impeded my forward motion. I pushed through the sharp blades, trying and failing to find a way out. My foot snagged on something and I fell. When I rolled over, the grass transformed into a field of snakes and they began to wrap around my body. I struggled until they immobilized me.

“You belong with us,” a snake hissed in my ear.

I jerked awake in the weak light of dawn. My ear tingled from the dream snake, and I shivered in the cold morning air, trying to shake off the horror of my nightmare.

Irys and the others milled around the small fire. We ate a breakfast of bread and cheese and saddled our horses. My muscles had stiffened during the night, and they protested each movement. By midmorning, the sun warmed the land and I shed my cloak, stuffing it into my backpack.

As we traveled, the soft ground turned into hard stone and the grasses thinned. Small sandstone outcroppings sprinkled the area. By lunch the outcroppings rose higher than our heads, and I felt as if we rode inside a canyon.

During a brief stop, I noticed streaks of red on a pair of sandstone pillars some distance away. “Tula’s attacker had something red under his fingernails,” I told the others. “Could it be from here?”

“It’s possible,” Irys agreed.

“We should get a sample,” Leif said. He rummaged in his pack until he found a short glass vial.

“We need to keep going.” Irys squinted at the sun. “I want to find a campsite before dark.”

“Go. I’ll catch up,” Leif said.

“Yelena, help him, make sure it’s the color you remember,” Irys ordered, then turned to Cahil before he could voice the objections behind his frown. “Cahil, you stay with me. If Yelena can find us hours after we left the Citadel, she’ll have no problem catching up today.”

Irys and a still scowling Cahil mounted their horses and headed toward the sun, while Leif and I found a path to the pillars. They were farther away than I had thought. Then, it took us longer than we had anticipated to collect a sample. The streaks turned out to be a layer of red clay. The exposed clay had hardened, and we chipped through it to reach the softer material underneath. We placed both the hard chips and soft clay into the vial.

By the time we returned to our starting point, the sun hovered halfway to the horizon. Kiki found Topaz’s trail, and we nudged the horses into a run.

I felt unconcerned when the sky began to darken. Topaz’s pungent scent filled Kiki’s sensitive nose, which meant we were getting close. But when full dark descended and I could not see a fire, I began to worry. When the moon rose, I halted Kiki.

“Are we lost?” Leif asked. He had been following me without comment since we had discovered the trail. I could just make out his annoyed frown in the faint moonlight.

“No. Kiki says Topaz’s scent is strong. Perhaps they decided to travel longer?”

“Can you reach Irys?” Leif asked.

“Oh, snake spit! I forgot!” I took a deep breath and gathered a string of power, chastising myself for failing to remember my magic again. I wondered when using magic would become instinctive.

I felt a surprising rush of power. The source seemed concentrated in this area. Projecting my awareness, I searched the surrounding land. Nothing.

Alarmed, I extended my reach, seeking further. Then I realized that my mind hadn’t even touched field mice or any other creatures. I stopped in frustration. If I could connect to Valek in the Snake Forest, I should be able to find Irys; after all, her horse had just passed this way.

Topaz smell always strong, Kiki agreed.

Always?

Yes.

“Well?” Leif asked with impatience.

“Something’s wrong. I can’t find Irys.” I told him what Kiki had just said.

“But that’s good, right?”

“There should have been a gradual buildup of scent from faint to sharp. Instead, it’s been the same since we found their trail.” I turned in a circle; magic pulsed in the air all around us. “Someone is trying to trick us.”

“Finally!” A deep voice barked from the darkness.

Kiki and Rusalka reared in surprise, but a soothing strand of magic calmed them. I pulled my bow and scanned the few faint shapes I could see in the weak light.

“Not very quick, are you?” the voice taunted from my left.

I spun Kiki around in time to see a man coalesce out of a blue ray of moonlight. Tall enough to meet my gaze without having to look up, the naked man’s skin was indigo and hairless. His bald head gleamed with sweat and I could see strength coiled in his powerful muscles. But his round face held amusement, and I sensed no immediate threat from him. Pure magical energy emanated from him, so I thought he might be influencing my emotions.

I drew my bow. “Who are you and what do you want?” I demanded.

Bright white teeth flashed as he smiled. “I am your Story Weaver.”

20

I GLANCED AT LEIF; his alarmed expression had turned to fear. Color leaked from his face as he looked from me to the large indigo-colored man. The man’s painted skin and lack of clothes made me think of Tula’s attacker, but his body was more muscular and scars crisscrossed his arms and legs. But no tattoos.

With my mental barrier in place, I held my bow ready, but the man stood relaxed. I would be relaxed, too, if I had access to the amount of magical power within his control. He had no need to move; he could kill us with a word. Which begged the question, why was he here?

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Go away,” Leif said to the man, “you cause only trouble.”

“Your stories have tangled and knotted together,” Story Weaver said. “I am here as a guide to show you both how to untangle them.”

“Banish him,” Leif told me. “He has to obey you.”

“He does?” That seemed rather easy.

“If you wish me to leave, I will go. But you and your brother will not be allowed to enter our village. His twisted soul causes us pain and you are linked to him.”

I stared at the Story Weaver in confusion; his words didn’t make sense. Friend or foe?

“You said you were here to guide. Guide us where?”

“Banish him now!” Leif yelled. “He will deceive you. He’s probably in league with Tula’s kidnapper and is trying to delay us.”

“Your fear remains strong,” Story Weaver said to Leif. “You are not ready to face your story, preferring instead to surround yourself with knots. Some day, they will strangle you. Your choice was to decline our help, but your tangles threaten to squeeze the life out of your sister. This must be corrected.” Extending his hand to me, he said, “You are ready. Leave Kiki and come with me.”

“Where?”

“To see your story.”

“How? Why?”

Story Weaver refused to answer. He radiated calm patience as if he could stand there with his arm extended all night, waiting.

Kiki looked back at me. Go with Moon Man, she urged. Hungry. Tired. Want Topaz.

Smell? Bad? I asked.

Hard road, but Lavender Lady strong. Go.

I returned my bow to its holder and dismounted.

“Yelena, no!” Leif cried. He clutched Rusalka’s reins tight to his chest.

I paused in shock. “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name. Now you care what happens to me? Sorry, it’s too late in the game for that to work. Frankly, I don’t want to deal with your troubles. I have enough of my own. And we have to find Tula’s attacker before he takes another, so it’s imperative that we meet with the clan elders. If this is what I need to do, then so be it.” I shrugged. “Besides, Kiki told me to go.”

“And you would listen to a horse instead of your brother?”

“Until now my brother has refused to acknowledge any connection with me since I have arrived in Sitia. I trust Kiki.”

Leif snorted in exasperation. “You spent your life in Ixia. You know nothing of these Sandseeds.”

“I learned who to trust.”

“A horse. You’re a fool.” He shook his head.

There was no sense telling him about how I had trusted an assassin, a magician who had tried to kill me twice and two soldiers who had jumped me in the Snake Forest. All four now dear to my heart.

“When will I be back?” I asked Story Weaver.

“With the sun’s first ray.”

I unsaddled Kiki and gave her a quick rubdown while she ate some oats. Then I exchanged her feed bag for water. She drained it, and I placed the empty sacks near her tack.

Apprehension about this strange trip began to crawl along my stomach. Wait for me? I asked Kiki.

She snorted and whacked me with her tail, moving away to search for some sweet grass to graze on. Ask a dull-witted question.

I met Leif’s stony gaze for a moment, then walked over to Story Weaver. He hadn’t moved. Kiki had called him Moon Man. Before I took his hand, I asked, “What’s your name?”

“Moon Man will do.”

I studied his colored skin. “Why indigo?”

A slow grin spread over his lips. “A cooling color to help soothe the fire between you and your brother.” Then, a sheepish look. “It is my favorite.”

I laid my hand in his. His palm felt like velvet. His warmth soaked into my bones and flowed up my arm. Magic shimmered and the world around us melted. I began to uncoil, feeling my body loosen and elongate as if it transformed into a string. The individual strands that entwined within my life’s story began to separate and diverge so I could see the many events that had formed my life.

Some of my history was familiar; I sought the pleasant memories, watching them as if I stood outside a window.

This is why you need me, Moon Man’s voice floated through the scene before my eyes. You would stay here. My job is to guide you to the proper thread.

Memories blurred around me. I closed my eyes as the visions swirled. When the air settled once more, I opened them.

I sat in the middle of a living area. Couches constructed of lianas and a glass-topped table surrounded me. A young boy about eight or nine years old reclined across from me on the wooden floor. He wore a pair of green short pants. With his hands behind his head and his elbows jutting out, he stared at the leaf-covered ceiling. About ten bone dice littered the ground between us.

“I’m bored,” the boy said.

The appropriate response popped into my mind. “How about Onesies? Or Two Through the Skull?” I scooped up the dice and shook them.

“Baby games,” he said. “Let’s go down to the jungle floor and explore!” Leif jumped to his feet.

“I don’t know. How about we go swinging with Nutty?”

“If you want to play silly baby games with Nutty, go ahead. I’m going to explore and probably make a big discovery. Maybe I’ll find the cure to the rotting disease. I’ll be famous. They’ll probably elect me the next clan leader.”

Not wanting to miss any important discoveries and ensuing fame, I agreed to go with him. With a quick call to our mother, we left our tree dwelling and climbed down the Palm ladder into the cooler air of the jungle’s floor. The soft ground felt spongy under my bare feet.

I followed Leif through the jungle, marveling at the youthful energy pumping through my six-year-old body. A part of me knew the truth, that I was older and not really here, that this was a vision. Yet I found I didn’t care, and I cartwheeled down the jungle path just for fun.

“This is serious,” Leif scolded. “We’re explorers. We need to collect samples. You gather some leaves while I search for flower petals.”

When he turned his back, I stuck my tongue out at him, but I grabbed some tree leaves all the same. A quick movement among the branches distracted me. I froze, scanning the area. Clinging to a sapling hung a young black-and-white valmur. Brown eyes bulged from its small face, peering at me.

I smiled and whistled at the creature. It scampered a bit higher, then turned its gaze back to mine and flicked its long tail. The animal wanted to play. I followed, copying its movements through the jungle. We climbed vines, swung and dodged around the big buttress roots of a Rosewood Tree.

I stopped when I heard a distant voice. Straining to listen, I heard Leif calling for me. I would have ignored him, playing was more fun than collecting leaves, but I thought he said something about a Ylang-Ylang Tree. Mother would bake us star fruit pies if we brought her Ylang-Ylang Flowers for her perfumes.

“Coming,” I shouted, jumping down to the jungle floor. When I turned to wave goodbye to the little valmur, it startled and dashed high up into the Rosewood Tree. A feeling of unease settled over me like a mist. I searched the nearby branches, looking for necklace snakes—the main predator of valmurs. With my gaze focused on the tree canopy, I almost tripped over a man.

I jumped back in surprise. He sat on the ground with his right leg splayed out and the other tucked in close. His hands gripped his left ankle. Torn and stained with dirt and sweat, his clothing hung in tatters. Leaves and tendrils clung to his black hair.

The adult part of my mind screamed. Mogkan! Run! But my young self remained unafraid.

“Thank fate!” Mogkan cried as relief smoothed the worry from his face. “I’m lost. I think I broke my ankle. Can you help?”

I nodded. “I’ll go get my brother—”

“Wait. Just help me up first.”

“Why?”

“To see if I can walk. If my ankle is really broken, you’ll have to get more help.”

My adult consciousness knew he lied, but I couldn’t prevent my child self from stepping closer. I reached out a hand; he grasped it then yanked me down. In one swift motion he grabbed me and muffled my cry with a damp cloth. He pressed it tight against my mouth, forcing a sweet aroma into my nose.

The jungle spun around me. Stay awake! Stay awake! I yelled to my body, but the blackness crept closer.

Struggling in Mogkan’s arms, my adult self knew what would happen next. Mogkan would take me to Ixia, and I would be raised in the orphanage of Reyad’s father, General Brazell, so when I reached maturity they could try to take the magic out of me as if milking a cow. All so Mogkan could increase his magical powers and help Brazell take over control of Commander Ambrose and Ixia. Even knowing the ending didn’t make me feel any better about my abduction.

Leif’s face in the bushes was the last thing my young self saw before the darkness claimed me. And that was truly horrifying.

The vision faded. I stood with Moon Man on a dark plain. “Did Leif really see what happened to me?” I asked Story Weaver. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t he tell our parents?” They could have sent a rescue party, or tried to get me back. Better for them to know their child’s fate than to guess and wonder for years.

As I thought about Leif, my resentment grew. He had robbed me of the chance to have a childhood, to have a bedroom and loving parents, to learn about the jungle with my father and distill perfumes with my mother, to swing through the trees with Nutty and to play games instead of memorizing Ixia’s Code of Behavior.

“Why?” I demanded.

“That is a question you must ask him.”

I shook my head. “He must have hated me. He was glad to see me kidnapped. That explains his anger when I returned to Sitia.”

Moon Man said, “Hate and anger are some of the emotions that strangle your brother, but not all. The easy answer is never the right answer. You must untangle your brother before he chokes himself.”

I thought about Leif. He had helped me with Tula, but he could have lied when he told me why, just like he had lied to our parents for fourteen years. My interactions with him since my return to Sitia had almost all been unpleasant. And the single memory I now owned of Leif before my time in Ixia made my blood boil with fury. Perhaps if I had more memories of my childhood.

“Why can’t I remember my life before Mogkan kidnapped me?” I asked.

“Mogkan used magic to suppress all your memories, so you would believe him and stay in the orphanage.”

That made sense. If I had remembered a family, I would have tried to run away.

“Do you want those memories back?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Promise you will help your brother and I will unlock them.”

I considered his offer. “How do I help him?”

“You will find a way.”

“Cryptic, aren’t we?”

He smiled. “The fun part of my job.”

“What if I refuse to help him?”

“That is your decision.”

I huffed in frustration. “Why do you care?”

“He sought relief from his pain in the Avibian Plains. He tried to kill himself. His need for help drew me to him. I offered my services, but fear twisted his heart and he refused. His pain reaches me still. A job unfinished. A soul lost. While there is time left, I will do what I can even if I have to bargain with a Soulfinder.”

21

“SOULFINDER?” FEAR BRUSHED up my spine. “Why do I keep hearing that name?” I asked Story Weaver. We still stood on the featureless expanse. Not unlike the surface of a frozen pond.

“Because you are one,” he said in a plain, matter-of-fact tone.

“No,” I protested, remembering the loathing and horror that had crossed Hayes’s face when he had first mentioned that title to me. He had talked about waking the dead.

“I will show you.”

The smooth plain under our feet turned transparent and, through it, I saw my Ixian friend, Janco. His pale face grimaced in pain as his blood gushed from the sword lodged in his stomach. The scene switched to Commander Ambrose lying motionless on a bed; his eyes vacant. Then I saw my own face as I stood over an unconscious General Brazell. My green eyes took on a sudden intensity as if I’d had an epiphany. A brief image of Fisk, the beggar boy, carrying packages and smiling. Then a picture of Tula, lying broken on her bed. The images faded as the ground returned.

“You have found five souls already,” Moon Man said.

“But they weren’t—”

“Dead?”

I nodded.

“Do you know what a Soulfinder is?” he asked.

“They wake the dead?” When he raised an eyebrow without commenting, I said, “No, I don’t.”

“You need to learn.”

“And telling me would be too easy. Right? Takes all the fun out of being a mysterious Story Weaver.”

He grinned. “What about my bargain? Childhood memories for your help with Leif.”

Just hearing his name sent waves of anger through my body. My reasons for coming to Sitia had been so simple. First for survival, fleeing the Commander’s order of execution. Second had been to learn how to use my magic and meet my family. Perhaps along the way I might develop a kinship with this southern world. Or perhaps not.

My plans had seemed straightforward, then my road kept dipping and turning and I kept getting caught in its traps. Now I felt mired in mud in the middle of nowhere. Lost.

“Your path is clear,” said Moon Man. “You need to find it.”

And the best way to find something you had lost was to return to the last place you remembered having it. In my case, I needed to start at the very beginning.

“I promise to try to help Leif,” I said.

Smells and softness flooded my mind as memories of my childhood came to life. Apple Berry perfume mixed with the musky scent of earth. Laughter and the pure joy of swinging through the air followed an argument with Leif over the last mango. Playing hide-and-seek with Leif and Nutty, crouching on branches to ambush Nutty’s brothers during a mock battle. The sharp sting of hazelnuts on my bare arms as her brothers discovered our hiding spot, launching an attack. The slap of mud as our clan leader dug a grave for my grandfather. The sound of my mother’s soothing voice as she sang me a lullaby. The lessons with Esau on different species of leaves and their medicinal properties.

All the happiness, sadness, pain, fear and thrills of childhood came rushing back. I knew some would fade with time, but others would stay with me forever.

“Thank you,” I said.

Story Weaver inclined his head. He held out a hand and I grasped it. The dark plain faded and shapes grew from the ground. Colors returned as the sun’s first light crested the horizon.

I blinked, trying to orient myself. The clearing where I had left Kiki and Leif had changed. Large circular tents ringed a huge fire pit. Brown animal shapes had been painted on the white canvas of the tents. Dark-skinned people milled about the roaring fire. Some cooked while others tended children. Some wore clothes while others wore nothing. The clothes were all made of white cotton. The women wore either sleeveless dresses that reached to their knees or a tunic and short pants like the men.

Near the fire, Irys and Cahil sat cross-legged with two older men and a woman. They were intent on their discussion and didn’t see me. I couldn’t spot Leif or his horse, but Kiki stood next to one of the tents. A woman wearing short pants groomed her. Her brown hair bobbed to her neck.

I jumped when I realized Moon Man no longer stood beside me. In fact, I couldn’t see him anywhere in the small village. Perhaps he’d gone into one of the tents.

Not wanting to interrupt Irys, I checked on Kiki. She whickered at me in greeting. The woman stopped brushing the dust off her coat. She studied me in silence.

Who’s this? I asked Kiki.

Mother.

“Is this your horse?” the woman asked. The inflection in her voice rose and fell with each word, and there was a slight pause between them.

I reviewed Irys’s lecture about the Sandseeds from the night before. The woman had spoken first so I guessed it would be all right to answer her. “I’m hers.”

She snorted a short laugh through her nose. “I raised her, taught her and sent her on her journey. It’s a pleasure to see her again.” She kicked at her saddle on the ground. “She doesn’t need this. She will float under you like a gust of wind.”

“That’s for me.” And for our supplies.

Another huff of amusement. She finished brushing her. Kiki turned her blue eyes toward her and understanding flashed on the woman’s face. She whooped and jumped up on Kiki’s back.

Have fun, I told Kiki as she raced through the tall grass.

“Is that wise?” Cahil asked. He watched Kiki disappear over a hill. “What if that woman doesn’t come back?”

“I don’t care if she comes back or not.” I shrugged, looking past Cahil. Irys and the three Sandseeds stood next to the fire. They were still in deep conversation. One of the men gestured in what appeared to be anger.

“You don’t care if she steals Kiki?”

Instead of trying to educate Cahil on my relationship with Kiki, I searched his face. Tension had pulled his eyes into an intent expression. His gaze darted around the campsite as if he expected to be attacked.

“What’s been going on?” I asked him, tilting my head toward Irys.

“Last night, we made camp and waited for you and Leif. I worried when you failed to catch up, but Irys seemed amused. Then this group of Sandseeds arrived at our site. These are the clan leaders. They travel from village to village, settling disputes, bringing news and goods. It’s very convenient that they found us. I think they’re hiding something.”

Cahil’s frown reminded me of my brother. “Where’s Leif?”

Worry lined his face. “They said he went back to the Keep. Why would he do that?”

Because he, too, felt afraid. But, I said, “He probably wanted to get the red soil samples to Bain.”

Cahil appeared unconvinced. Before I could ask more questions, Irys ended her conversation and moved to join us.

“They’re upset,” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“They think we’re accusing them of giving the Curare to Tula’s attacker. And Cahil’s attempts to recruit them to his cause have inflamed them.” Irys scowled at Cahil. “I thought you wanted to come along so you could see another part of our culture. Your selfish obsession to raise an army has jeopardized our mission.”

Cahil didn’t look remorseful. “I wouldn’t have to raise an army if the Council supported me. You—”

“Silence!” Irys sliced her hand through the air and I felt a brush of magic.

Bright red blotches grew on Cahil’s cheeks as he tried to speak.

“Despite all my diplomatic training, I can’t get them to tell me anything. Cahil has offended them. They will now talk only to you, Yelena.”

“Should we plan our escape route now?” I asked.

She laughed. “We’ll push Cahil into their path to slow them down.”

Cahil shot Irys a venomous glare.

“You have a slight advantage, Yelena,” she said. “I might be a Master Magician and member of the Council, but you’re a blood relative. In their eyes, a relative is more important than a Master.” Irys shook her head in frustration.

“Relative?” I asked.

“About five hundred years ago a group of Sandseeds decided to move into the jungle. The Sandseeds are wanderers by nature, and there have been many groups that have broken from the main clan to find their own way. Most don’t stay in communication with the main clan, but some, like the Zaltanas, do. Just try and discover some information without implying that these Sandseeds are involved. Choose your words carefully.”

Irys must have read the skepticism on my face because she added, “Consider it your first lesson in diplomacy.”

“Seeing how well you did with them, I’m surprised that I don’t feel more confident.”

“Avoid sarcasm.”

“How about coming with me? So when I start to say something stupid you can wave your hand and silence me, too.”

A sardonic smile flashed on her face. “I’ve been asked to leave and to ‘take that annoying puppy’ with me. You’re on your own. I won’t be able to reach your mind through this bubble of Sandseed magic, so we’ll meet you at the edge of the Avibian Plains next to Blood Rock.”

Irys formed an image in my mind of that white-veined structure that Kiki and I had passed two days ago.

Cahil waved his arms and tapped his throat. Irys sighed again. “Only if you promise not to talk about armies until we’re back at the Citadel.”

He nodded.

“Yelena, I’ll let you release his voice,” she said.

Another lesson. I calmed the nervous thoughts about my meeting with the elders before I opened my mind to the magic. Magical energy pulsed all around me, but I saw a thin thread of power wrapped around Cahil’s throat. Pulling the power to me, I unlocked his voice.

“Well done,” Irys said.

Cahil’s ears were still bright red, but he had the sense to speak in an even tone. “If I may point out the obvious,” he said. “Leaving Yelena alone is dangerous.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Irys said. “I could force them to tell me what they know, but the Sandseeds would consider that an act of war. Then you’ll never get your army, Cahil; because we’ll be too busy trying to prevent the Sandseeds from taking a blood vengeance from everyone in Sitia.” She turned to me. “Yelena, good luck. We’ll have a lot to discuss when you catch up with us. Cahil, go saddle Topaz.” Irys strode away, whistling for her horse.

A stubborn expression gripped Cahil’s face, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I should stay. Someone needs to watch your back. Basic military tactics. Always have a partner.”

“Cahil, there is so much magic in the air around here that the Sandseeds could close my windpipe and there isn’t a damn thing you or I could do about it.”

“Then come with us.”

“What about Tula or the killer’s next victim? I have to try.”

“But the risk—”

“Living is a risk,” I snapped at him. “Every decision, every interaction, every step, every time you get out of bed in the morning, you take a risk. To survive is to know you’re taking that risk and to not get out of bed clutching illusions of safety.”

“Your view of life doesn’t sound comforting.”

“It’s not supposed to. That’s the whole point.” Before Cahil could launch into a discussion on philosophy, I tried to shoo him away. “Get going before Irys loses her patience with you again.” I swept my hand through the air as Irys had done.

He grabbed my wrist. “No, you don’t!” He held my hand for a moment. “If the Sandseeds hurt you, they’ll see some of my blood vengeance. Be careful.”

I pulled my hand away. “Always.”

All those worried thoughts about offending the Sandseeds came flooding back as I watched Irys and Cahil ride away. I reviewed Irys’s last-minute instructions about dealing with the clan elders. I glanced around, wondering what I should do.

The Sandseeds worked in their temporary village with a calm efficiency. My hunger flared when I caught a whiff of roasting meat, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since we had stopped for lunch the day before. I laid my pack next to Kiki’s saddle and rummaged for something to eat, but sitting down proved to be a bad decision as exhaustion pulled at my body. I let my new memories of childhood circle in my mind, and I contented myself with reliving some of them. Using the saddle as a pillow, I stretched out on the grass, not bothering to spread my cloak. Strange that I felt so safe here.

But I wasn’t safe from my nightmares. Hunted by a slithering mass of snakes, I scrambled through the jungle. They wrapped around my ankles, yanking me down. Unable to move, they sank fangs, dripping with Curare deep into my flesh. “Come with us,” the snakes hissed.

“Cousin?” a timid voice asked.

I awoke with a loud cry. A petite woman with large eyes stepped back in alarm. Her brown hair was streaked with yellow and tied back with a leather cord. Stains lined the white fabric of her dress.

“The elders will see you now.”

I peered at the sky, but sheets of clouds obscured the sun. “How long was I asleep?”

The woman smiled. “All day. Follow me please.”

I looked at my bow, knowing it would be an insult to bring it, yet wanting it anyway. With reluctance, I left it on the ground and followed the woman. Questions swirled in my mind as we passed the tents, but I bit my lip to prevent myself from voicing them. Wait, wait, I thought, quelling my impatience. Unfortunately, diplomacy was a dance I needed to learn.

The woman stopped at the largest tent. The animal patterns almost covered the white fabric. She swept back a panel and gestured for me to enter. I stepped into the tent, waiting in the muted light for my eyes to adjust.

“You may approach,” said a male voice from the far side of the tent.

I surveyed the interior as I crossed to the back. Maroon and tan rugs woven with intricate geometric patterns covered the floor of the round tent. I spotted some sleeping mats and colorful pillows on the left. Bigger pillows on the right surrounded a low table, and candleholders with long red tassels hung from the ceiling.

Sitting cross-legged in a row on an ebony-and-gold mat were two men and a woman. One I recognized. Moon Man smiled at me from between the man and woman. His skin was now painted yellow. Wrinkles creased the face of the other man, and the woman’s hair was peppered with gray. Both wore red robes.

I halted in shock as the sudden image of my red prison robe, tattered and bloody, rose in my mind. I hadn’t thought of that garment since Valek offered me the option of being executed or becoming the Commander’s food taster. I had cast it aside and accepted the Ixian uniform without a backward glance. Odd that I should think of it now. Or had Story Weaver pulled those thoughts from my mind? I peered at Moon Man with suspicion.

“Sit,” said the woman. She gestured to a small round rug on the floor in front of them.

I settled into the same position as my hosts.

“A Zaltana who has traveled far. You have returned to your ancestors to seek guidance,” the man said. His dark eyes brimmed with knowledge and his gaze pierced my soul.

“I seek understanding,” I said.

“Your journey has twisted and bent. Your journey has stained you with blood and pain and death. You must be cleansed.” The man nodded to Story Weaver.

Moon Man rose. From under the mat, he pulled a scimitar. The sharp edge of the long blade gleamed in the candlelight.

22

MOON MAN ADVANCED. He rested the curved blade of the scimitar on my left shoulder with the sharp edge dangerously close to my neck.

“Are you ready to be cleansed?” he asked.

My throat tightened. “What? How?” My mouth stumbled over the words. All logic fled.

“We take the stains of blood, pain and death from you. We take your blood and cause you pain. You will atone for your misdeeds with your eventual death and be welcomed into the sky.”

One word cut through the jumble of fear in my mind. Sudden clarity focused my thoughts. I stood with deliberate care, trying not to jostle the weapon, and stepped back. The blade remained poised in midair.

“I have no misdeeds to atone for. I hold no remorse for my past actions and, therefore, do not need to be cleansed.” I braced for their reaction. Diplomacy be damned.

Moon Man grinned and the two elders nodded in approval. Confused I watched him replace the scimitar under the mat and settled back into his position. “That is the correct response,” he said.

“What if I had agreed?”

“Then we would have sent you away with only a few cryptic remarks to puzzle over.” He laughed. “I must admit I am slightly disappointed. I worked all afternoon on those remarks.”

“Sit,” the woman ordered. “What do you seek to understand?”

I chose my words with great care as I sat on the mat. “A beast has been preying on young women throughout Sitia. To date, he has killed ten and injured one. I want to stop him. I seek to understand who he is.”

“Why come to us?” the woman asked.

“He has been using a certain substance as a weapon. I’m concerned that he might have stolen it from one of your clan members.” I waited, hoping the word “stolen” would not imply guilt.

“Ah, yes, this substance,” the old man said. “A blessing and a curse. A package from Esau Liana Sandseed Zaltana arrived at one of our villages near the Daviian Plateau. That village was raided soon after by the Daviian Vermin.” The old man spat on the dirt floor. “Many things were stolen in that raid.”

His scorn for these Vermin was obvious, but I asked anyway. “Who are these Vermin?”

The elders tightened their jaws, refusing to reply.

Frowning, Moon Man explained them to me. “They are young men and women who have rebelled against our traditions. They have broken from the clan and settled on the Plateau. The Plateau does not give up its bounty without a fight. The Vermin prefer to steal from us rather than work to grow their own food.”

“Could one of them be the monster I seek?”

“Yes. They have perverted our art of magic weaving. Instead of benefiting the clan, they seek to increase their power, enriching only themselves. Most of them do not have the gift, but there are a few who are very powerful.”

Moon Man’s fierce expression gave me a mental image of how he would look when swinging his scimitar in battle. I held a picture of Ferde, Tula’s attacker, in my mind.

“Is he one of them?” I asked. Moon Man’s magic coursed through me.

Moon Man grunted, then growled deep in his throat. Looking at the elder man, he said, “They are practicing the old evil. We must stop them.”

Horrified, the man replied, “We will try again to pierce their magic screen. We will find them.” He stood with grace and dignity, bowed once to me, then gestured to the woman. “Come. We must make plans.”

They left the tent. Moon Man and I remained. “The old evil?” I asked.

“An ancient horrible ritual of binding a victim’s soul to you, then killing him. When the victim dies, his magic flows into you, increasing your strength. The red markings on that beast are part of the ritual.” Moon Man’s brow furrowed for a moment before his eyes widened with concern. “You said one woman was injured. Where is she now?”

“In the Magician’s Keep.”

“Guarded?”

“Yes. Why?”

“The one you seek will not be in the Daviian Plateau; he will be in the Keep, waiting for another chance to take her life. He can not bind another soul until she dies.”

“I must go back.” I jumped up from the small mat intent on leaving.

Moon Man grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him. “Do not forget your promise.”

“I won’t. Tula first, then Leif.”

He nodded. “May I ask another favor?”

I hesitated. At least, he didn’t want a promise. “You can ask.”

“When your training with Master Irys is complete, will you return to me so I may teach you the magical arts of the Sandseeds? It is part of your heritage and of your blood.”

The proposition sounded appealing, but would be yet another curve in my journey. At this rate, I doubted I would even finish my training. If history served as guidance, my future tended to go in unanticipated directions. “I will try.”

“Good. Now go!” He bowed to me, then shooed me from the tent.

A frenzy of activity encompassed the camp. Dismantled tents littered the ground as the clan members prepared to leave. Twilight crept closer as I searched for my pack. I found Kiki instead. She was saddled and ready to go. Her short-haired “mother” offered her reins to me.

As I took the leather straps, she said, “Do not sit on the saddle. Crouch over it and shift your weight forward. And she will fly home for you.”

“Thank you.” I bowed.

She smiled. “You are well matched. I am pleased.” With a final pat to Kiki’s neck, the woman turned to join the clan in their packing efforts.

I mounted Kiki, and tried to follow her directions. We would lose the light soon. Kiki turned her head to the left, peering at me with a blue eye.

Catch Topaz? Silk? she asked.

Yes. Let’s fly!

Kiki moved. The long grasses blurred past my feet until I could no longer see them in the darkness. I held my position as we traveled over the plains. It felt as if I rode on top of a wind storm rather than a horse.

When the moon reached its apex, I felt the Sandseed’s magic thin, then disappear. No longer surrounded by their power, I used my magic to search for Irys.

I’m here, she said in my mind and I saw through her eyes that they had made camp by Blood Rock.

Wake Cahil, I told her. We have to return to the Keep as fast as we can. Tula’s still in danger.

She is well guarded.

He has powerful magic.

We’re on our way.

I sent my awareness toward the Keep, hoping to warn them. My mind touched Hayes dozing in his office. He flinched away from me in horror and raised a stronger barrier. The other Master Magicians’ defenses were as well constructed as the towers in which they slept. Growing weary with the effort, I pulled back.

Kiki overtook Irys and Cahil on the Citadel road just as the sky began to lighten. I had only a moment to wonder how she had managed a two day journey in one night before we sped past the others.

Need rest? I asked her, glancing behind in time to see Irys and Cahil wave me on.

No.

But my legs burned as if they were on fire. I aimed blue cooling thoughts at them, and they numbed.

We were within sight of the marble gates of the Citadel when all desire to rest fled my mind. A sudden and intense feeling of terrified helplessness pressed on my body. Tula. I launched my awareness toward the Keep, searching for someone, anyone to warn. The guards with Tula didn’t have any magic. While I could read the minds of non-magicians, they had no power to “hear” me. Desperate, I kept hunting.

My mind found Dax. He was in the middle of a practice bout, learning to parry and lunge with a wooden sword.

Tula, I screamed in his mind. Danger! Get help!

He dropped his sword in surprise and was whacked in the ribs by his opponent.

Yelena? He spun around, looking for me.

Tula’s in danger! Go. Now, I ordered. Then my connection to him severed. It felt as if someone had drawn a stone curtain down between us.

Time slowed to drips of molasses as we entered the Citadel and navigated the busy streets. It seemed as if the entire population walked in the streets. Their unhurried pace clogged the roadway.

The air sparked with the perfect cooling season temperature. And a perfect contrast to the fire in my heart. I wanted to scream at the crowd to move. Kiki, sensing my urgency, stepped up her pace and nudged the dawdlers out of our way.

A few curses followed us. Kiki startled the guards at the Keep’s entrance when she refused to stop. She headed straight to the infirmary and even climbed the stairs, stopping only when we had reached the door.

I slid from her saddle. Racing toward Tula’s room, I feared the worst when I spotted her guards lying in the corridor. I jumped over them and burst into her room. The door slammed against the wall. The noise echoed off the cold marble, but failed to rouse Tula.

Her lifeless eyes stared at nothing. Her bloodless lips were frozen in a grimace of horror and pain. My fingers sought a pulse; her skin felt icy and stiff. Black bruises ringed her neck.

Too late, or, was I? I placed my hand on her throat, pulling power to me. In my mind’s eye, I saw her crushed windpipe. She had been strangled. I sent a bubble of power to reinflate it, sending air into her lungs. I focused on her heart, willing it to pump.

Her heart beat and air filled her lungs, but the dullness refused to leave her eyes. I pushed harder. Her skin warmed and flushed. Her chest rose and fell. Yet, when I stopped, her blood stilled and she failed to take another breath.

He had stolen her soul. I couldn’t revive her.

A heavy arm rested on my shoulder. “There is nothing more you can do,” Irys said.

I glanced around. Behind me stood Cahil, Leif, Dax, Roze and Hayes. They crowded the small room and I hadn’t even noticed their arrival. Tula’s skin cooled under my fingers. I pulled my hand away.

A sharp, bone-crushing exhaustion settled over me. I dropped to the floor, closed my eyes and rested my head in my hands. My fault. My fault. I should never have left her.

The room erupted with sound and activity, but I ignored them as tears poured down my face. I wanted to dissolve into the floor, mixing myself with the hard stone. A stone had a single purpose: to be. No complicated promises, no worries and no feelings.

I lowered my cheek to the smooth marble. The cold stung my fevered skin. Only when the noise in the room faded did I open my eyes. And saw a scrap of paper lying under Tula’s bed. It must have fallen off when I had tried to put life into her body. I reached for it, thinking it had been Tula’s.

The words written on the paper cut through the fog of my grief like Moon Man’s scimitar.

The note said: I have Opal. I will exchange Opal for Yelena Zaltana at the next rising of the full moon. Send Tula’s grief flag up First Magician’s tower as a sign of agreement and Opal will not be harmed. More instructions will follow.

23

“WE’LL SEND TULA’S grief flag up, but we’re not exchanging Yelena for Opal,” Irys insisted. “We have two weeks until the full moon. That should give us enough time to find Opal.”

Again, loud arguments echoed through the magician’s meeting room. Zitora had returned from her mission for the Council so all four Master Magicians were there, as well as Tula’s family, Leif, and the Captain of the Keep’s guard.

Leif had tried to ask me about the Sandseeds before the meeting started, but I cut him off with an angry response. I still couldn’t look at him without seeing his eight-year-old face in the bushes, watching my kidnapping and doing nothing.

The events that had occurred after I discovered the ransom note felt as if they happened in a dream. Once everyone settled down, the killer’s movements prior to attacking Tula were uncovered.

He obtained a position with the Keep’s gardeners. Unfortunately, the people he worked with couldn’t agree on his facial features and Bain had drawn four completely different men from their descriptions. They also failed to remember his name.

With ten magical souls, Ferde obtained enough power to equal a Master Magician. He concealed his presence in the Keep with ease and confused those he worked with.

Tula’s guards were shot with tiny darts dipped in Curare. They could only recall seeing one of the gardeners delivering some medicinal plants to Hayes before their muscles froze. The fact that Ferde had infiltrated the Keep had put the Keep’s guards in serious trouble.

“He was living in the Keep and we had no clue,” Roze said. Her powerful voice rose over the din. “What makes you think we can find him now?”

Tula’s mother and father drew in horrified breaths. They had arrived the day before. The news of her passing had shocked them to their core. I could see in their drawn faces and in their haunted gazes that knowing the same man held Opal made their lives a living nightmare. Just like mine.

“Give him Yelena,” Roze said into the now quiet room. “She was able to animate Tula. She has the power to handle this killer.”

“We don’t want anyone else harmed,” said Tula’s father. He wore a simple brown tunic and pants. His large hands were rough with calluses and burn scars; evidence of a lifetime of working with molten glass.

“No, Roze,” Irys admonished. “She doesn’t have full control of her magic yet. Probably the main reason he wants her. If he stole her magic, think how powerful he would then be.”

Bain, who had translated the markings on the killer’s skin, told the group in the meeting room that the purpose of the man’s quest was written in his tattoos. Bain’s information matched what Moon Man had told me.

Ferde performed an ancient Efe binding ritual that used intimidation and torture to turn a victim into a willing slave. When all free will had been surrendered, the victim was murdered and her soul’s magic was directed into Ferde, increasing his own power. He had targeted fifteen-and sixteen-year-old girls because their magic potential was just beginning.

Sour bile churned in my stomach as I listened to Bain’s explanation. Reyad and Mogkan’s tactics in Ixia to increase Mogkan’s magic had been sickeningly familiar. Although, they hadn’t raped or killed their thirty-two victims, they tortured their souls from them, leaving them mindless. Just as horrible.

Ferde had gained eleven souls. According to the ritual, the twelfth soul must go to him willingly. No kidnapping for the final ritual, which, when completed, would give him almost unlimited power.

Debate on why Tula survived the initial attack led to a guess that Ferde had been close to being discovered and fled before finishing the ritual.

“Yelena should be protected at all times,” Irys said. Her words brought me back to the meeting. “If we can’t find him, we’ll set up an ambush near the exchange site and apprehend him that way.”

The magicians continued to argue. It seemed as if I would have no say in the plans. It didn’t matter. I would either find Ferde or be at that exchange site. I had failed Tula; I wasn’t going to let Opal suffer the same fate.

A messenger from the Council arrived as the meeting ended. He handed Roze a scroll. She read it then thrust the paper at Irys in what appeared to be disgust. Irys’s shoulders drooped when she scanned the document.

What else has gone wrong? I asked her.

Another situation to deal with. This one is not life threatening, though, just bad timing, she said. At least this will be another chance for you to practice your diplomacy.

How?

An Ixian delegation is expected to arrive in six days.

So soon? I had thought the messenger with the Council’s reply had just left.

Yelena, it’s been five days. It’s a two day ride to the Ixian border and a half a day to the Commander’s castle.

Five days? So much had happened in those five days that I felt as if I lived one endless day. Difficult, too, to believe I had been living in Sitia for only two and a half seasons. Almost half a year gone in what seemed like a fortnight. My ache for Valek hadn’t dulled, and I wondered if meeting the northern delegation would cause me to miss him more.

I followed the others from the room. In the hallway outside, Zitora linked her arm in mine.

“I need some help,” she said, guiding me from the Keep’s administration building, and toward her tower.

“But I need to—”

“Get some rest. And not go searching the Citadel for Opal,” Zitora said.

“I will, anyway. You know that.”

She nodded. “But not tonight.”

“What do you need?”

A sad smile touched her face. “Help with Tula’s flag. I believe asking her parents would only increase their grief.”

We entered her tower and climbed two flights of stairs to her workroom. Comfortable chairs and tables littered with sewing and art supplies filled the large chamber.

“My seamstress skills are limited,” Zitora said. She moved around the room, adding fabric and thread to the one empty table near the chairs. “But not for the lack of practice. I can sew and embroider, but I’m better at drawing. When I have the time, I’ve been experimenting with painting on silk.”

Satisfied with her collection, Zitora dug through another pile of cloth and pulled out a sheet of white silk. She measured and cut off a five-foot-by-three-foot rectangle.

“The background will be white for Tula’s purity and innocence,” Zitora said. “Yelena, what should I put in the foreground?” When she saw my confusion, she explained, “A grief flag is our way of honoring the dead. It’s a representation of the person. We decorate it with the things that made up a person’s life, and when we raise the flag high, it releases their spirit into the sky. So what would best represent Tula?”

My thoughts went immediately to Ferde. A poisonous snake, red flames for pain and a jar of Curare all came to mind. I scowled, unable to imagine Tula’s spirit free. She had been trapped in the blackness of Ferde’s soul because of my stupidity.

“He’s a cunning demon, isn’t he?” Zitora asked, as if reading my mind. “To have the boldness to live in the Keep, to have the skill to kill under our roof and to have you blame yourself for it. A masterful trick, I’d say.”

“You’re starting to sound like a certain Story Weaver I know,” I said.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Zitora replied. She sorted through colorful squares of silk. “Let’s see. If you had listened to Irys and remained behind, the killer would have gotten Tula and you.”

“But I had gotten my energy back,” I said. Irys had thought it best not to mention Valek’s help.

“Only because you wanted to follow Irys.” Zitora raised a thin eyebrow.

“But I wouldn’t have gone with Ferde willingly.”

“Truly? What if he had promised not to kill Tula in exchange for you?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it, considering. She had a point.

“Once you say the words or move with intent, it’s done. What follows after will not change that, and he would have killed Tula anyway,” Zitora said. She lined the colored squares along the table’s edge. “If you had stayed behind, you would both be gone, and we wouldn’t have the information from the Sandseeds.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better?”

Zitora smiled. “Now, what should we put on Tula’s flag?”

The answer came to mind. “Honeysuckles, a single drop of dew on a blade of grass and glass animals.”

Opal had told me about Tula’s glass animals. Most of them Tula had either sold or given away as gifts, but Tula kept a small collection of them near her bed. The unwelcome thought of what we would sew on to Opal’s flag rose in my mind. I suppressed it, squashing the image into a small corner of my brain. I would not let Ferde murder Opal.

Zitora drew shapes on the silk and I cut them out. When the pile met her approval, we arranged them on the white silk. Honeysuckles bordered the flag, while the blade of grass rose in the center surrounded by a ring of animal sculptures.

“Beautiful,” Zitora said. Her eyes shone with grief. “Now comes the tedious part—sewing all these bits of cloth onto the background!”

I threaded needles for her, the extent of my sewing ability. After a while, she told me to go back to my room and get some sleep.

“Don’t forget about our agreement,” Zitora called as I started down the steps.

“I won’t.”

Now that she was back, I could begin teaching her some self-defense. With my thoughts preoccupied with scheduling her training, I was startled by two guards who waited for me outside Zitora’s tower.

“What do you want?” I demanded, pulling my bow.

“Orders from Fourth Magician. You’re to be protected at all times,” said the larger of the two men.

I huffed with annoyance. “Go back to the barracks. I can take care of myself.”

The men grinned.

“She told us you would say that,” the other man said. “We follow her orders. If our unit fails to protect you, we’ll be assigned to clean chamber pots for the rest of our days.”

“I could make your job very difficult,” I warned them.

The stubborn stiffness of their shoulders never softened.

“There is nothing you can do that’s worse than cleaning chamber pots,” said the large man.

I sighed; giving them the slip to search for Opal would be hard. Which was probably why Irys had assigned them to me. She knew that I would go hunting as soon as I could.

“Just stay out of my way,” I growled.

I turned my back on the guards and headed for the apprentice’s wing. The dark campus seemed to mourn, and an uneasy quiet filled the air. The raising ceremony for Tula was scheduled for dawn.

Then life would continue. I would have my afternoon lesson with Irys. Cahil had already reminded me of our evening ride. I would attempt to keep my promise to Moon Man. All these events would occur despite the threat to Opal. Or should that be in spite of the threat?

My guards refused to let me enter my rooms until one of them searched for intruders. At least they remained outside afterward and didn’t insist on staying with me. But Irys had informed them that I would attempt to “escape,” because when I looked out my bedroom window, I saw one of the guards standing there. I closed and locked the window shutters.

The guards blocked both exits. I could see Dax’s grin in my mind, knowing he would delight in telling me the gossip and rumors from the other students about my protectors.

I sat on the bed in annoyance and sealed my fate. The soft comfort of my pillow called to me. I would rest only a moment, clearing my head so I could plan a way to lose my two shadows.

During the next five days, I had only one successful escape. The morning after I had helped Zitora with Tula’s grief flag, I stood next to Irys for Tula’s raising ceremony.

Tula’s body had been wrapped in white linen strips and covered with her flag. The leader of the Cowan clan spoke kind words over her body as her parents wept. All four Master Magicians attended. Zitora soaked a handkerchief with her tears, but I clamped down on my emotions and focused on Opal, hardening my resolve to find her.

Tula’s body was to be taken home and buried in her family’s graveyard. But, according to Sitian beliefs, during this farewell ceremony her spirit transferred to the flag. The people surrounding me believed that when this pennant of white silk fluttered above Roze’s tower, Tula’s spirit would be released into the sky.

But I knew better. Tula’s spirit was trapped inside Ferde and only his death would release her. For me, Tula’s flag not only signaled Ferde that we had agreed to his exchange, but also symbolized my determination to find and stop him.

The morning after Tula’s ceremony, I led my guards to the baths. The pools and changing rooms bustled with students getting ready for classes, and despite the assortment of wary looks aimed my way, I managed to pay a few novices to create a diversion near the back entrance.

The ruse worked. I dashed out of the baths and out of the Keep before the soldiers at the gate could recognize me. The guards stationed at the Keep’s gate monitored who came in, and, unless there was a crisis, they only paid a passing interest to those who left.

Once out of sight, my first task included finding Fisk and his friends. The market was just stirring to life. Only a few customers wandered through the stands at this early hour. I found Fisk playing dice with a group of children.

He ran over to me. “Lovely Yelena, how can I assist you today?” His smile lit up his face.

The other children surrounded me, waiting for instructions. They appeared clean and cared for. They earned money for their families, and I thought that once I finished this ugly business with Ferde, I would give them more help. I remembered to tell them about the Keep’s need for another gardener, though, and was rewarded to see one girl run home to tell her father.

“I need guides,” I told Fisk. “Show me all the shortcuts and hidden areas of the Citadel.”

While they took me through back alleys and forgotten quarters, I questioned them about the people. Anybody new? Anybody acting strange? Had they seen a young, frightened girl with a man? They regaled me with wild stories, but the information was not what I needed. As we moved, I searched the surrounding homes with my magic, seeking Opal, or the wisp of someone else’s magic, or anything that might give me a clue as to her whereabouts.

The day was well spent and only my hunger could stop me. Fisk led me to the best meat griller in the Citadel’s market. As I ate the juicy beef, I decided I would continue my search late into the night and then find a place to sleep. I would have plenty more days to spend hunting Opal.

At least that had been my intention until Irys and my guards ambushed me. Hidden behind a shield of magic, she prevented me from sensing them until too late. The instant the two soldiers grabbed my arms; she seized control of my body, pushing aside what I had thought to be a strong mental barrier. The full power of a Master Magician reduced my own defenses to dust. Unable to move or to talk, I stared at her in complete surprise.

Even though I had missed Irys’s morning lesson and blocked her efforts to find me with her magic, I thought she would understand my mission. I was unprepared for the severity of her anger.

My guards, looking grim and scared, clung to me.

You will not leave the Keep again. You will not lose your guards again. Or I will lock you in the Keep’s prison. Understand?

Yes. I’m—

I’ll be watching.

But—

Irys severed our mental connection with a head aching abruptness. Yet her magic still gripped my body.

“Take her back to the Keep,” Irys ordered the guards. “Take her to her rooms. She may leave them only for lessons and meals. Do not lose her again.”

The guards flinched under her searing gaze. The larger one picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I suffered the indignity of being carried through the Citadel, across the Keep’s campus and dumped onto my bed.

Irys didn’t relinquish control of my body until the next morning, although I still felt a band of her magic wrapped around my throat. By then, I was ready to throttle anyone who dared to get in my way. Avoided as if I carried a disease, I could only vent my ill humor on the guards as they escorted me through the campus.

After three days of this hell, I stood next to Irys in the great hall of the Council building, waiting for the Ixian delegation to arrive. Irys had used my lesson time to lecture me on proper Sitian protocols and diplomacy. She had refused to let me talk to her about anything other than the lecture topic. My frustration at not knowing about the search for Opal seized my chest like a vise.

The great hall was decorated with large silk banners representing each of the eleven clans and each of the Master Magicians. Hung from the ceiling, these colorful banners flowed down three stories of marble walls until they reached the floor. Tall slender windows separated the banners, allowing the sunlight to stripe the floor with gold. The Council members wore formal robes of silk, embroidered with silver thread. Irys and the other Masters wore their ceremonial robes and masks.

I remembered Irys’s hawk mask from when she had visited the Commander in Ixia, and I looked at the others with interest. Roze Featherstone, First Magician wore a blue dragon mask. Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician had donned a leopard skin mask. And a white unicorn covered Third Magician, Zitora’s face.

According to Fisk, these animals acted as the magicians’ guides through the underworld and throughout their life. They had found them while enduring the Master level test, which, from the little bits of information I could gather, seemed a horrible ordeal.

Cahil had donned the midnight-blue tunic with the silver piping that he had worn to the New Beginnings feast. The color complemented his blond hair and he looked regal despite his hard expression. Present to assess his enemy for weakness, he promised to keep quiet and not draw attention to himself; otherwise, the Council members would have banned him from the greeting ceremonies.

Fidgeting, I twisted the wide sleeves of my formal apprentice robe around my arm. Pale yellow in color, the hem of the plain cotton garment touched my feet and revealed the black sandals Zitora had given to me. I plucked at the skin on my neck and pulled at the robe’s collar.

What’s wrong? Irys asked. Her rigid posture radiated disapproval.

It was the first time since my house arrest that she had mentally communicated to me. I wanted to ignore her. My anger at her punishment still sizzled in my blood. Even now, Irys’s magic wrapped around my neck. She hadn’t been kidding when she had said she’d be watching. The power I would need to remove her magic would exhaust me, and I didn’t possess enough nerve to provoke her again.

Your leash chafes. My thoughts were cold.

Good. Maybe now you’ll learn to listen and to think before you act. To trust others’ judgments.

I’ve learned something.

What?

The harsh tactics of the Commander are not unique to Ixia.

Oh, Yelena. Irys’s stiff demeanor melted. The hard band of magic around my throat disappeared. I’m at my wit’s end. You’re so focused on action. You have a single-minded determination that barrels through situations. You’ve been lucky so far, and I don’t know how to make you understand that if Tula’s killer absorbs your power, he will be unstoppable. Sitia will be his to rule. This goes beyond you and your desire for revenge. This affects us all. All options must be carefully considered before any action is taken. That is the Sitian way.

She shook her head, sighing. I have forgotten that you’re a grown woman. Once you have complete control of your magic and when this killer is found, you can do as you like, go where you please. I had hoped you would have become a part of our efforts to keep Sitia a safe and prosperous place to live. But your unpredictability will only jeopardize our community.

Irys’s words cut through my anger. To be free to do anything I wanted seemed a foreign concept. The first time in my life that I had been offered such a choice.

I envisioned traveling all over Sitia with Kiki and with no worries or promises to keep. To be unconnected. Moving from one town to the next, experiencing the culture. Or climbing through the jungle with my father, learning about the medicinal properties of some leaf. Or sneaking into Ixia to meet with Valek. She presented an attractive option.

Perhaps I would take her up on it, but not until after I captured Ferde and fulfilled my promise to Moon Man.

Deciding I would try harder to work in the Sitian way, I said, Irys, I would like to help find Opal.

Sensing my intentions, she turned to me and studied my expression. There’s a meeting scheduled after the formalities with the Ixians. You’re welcome to come.

I smoothed out the sleeves of my robe as the row of trumpet players sounded the arrival of the northerners. An immediate hush fell over the great hall as a stately parade of Ixians entered the room.

The Ambassador led the procession. The tailored cut of her black uniform lent her an air of importance. Two diamonds sparkled from her collar. The Commander must have shown her great favor in allowing her to wear the precious stones for this mission. Her long straight hair was fading toward gray, yet her almond-shaped eyes held a powerful vitality.

Sudden recognition pierced my heart.

24

I QUICKLY SCANNED THE rest of the Ambassador’s retinue, searching for the person who had to be there. Her aide, walking one step behind her, wore the same uniform as the Ambassador except the red diamonds on his collar had been stitched with thread. His bland face was unremarkable, so I moved my gaze to the others.

Some of the guards looked familiar, but two captains near the middle caught my eye. Ari’s massive muscles strained the seams on his uniform. His tight blond curls looked almost white in the sunlight. His face remained impassive when he glanced at me, but I could see two red blotches spreading on his cheeks as he fought to keep from smiling.

Janco sauntered next to him, looking much healthier than when I had said goodbye to him in Ixia. Then his pale face had been tight with pain and he hadn’t the strength to stand. The results of defending Irys against Mogkan’s men. Now he moved his lean build with an athletic grace and his skin was tanned. Straight-faced, he peered at me, but I could see pure mischievous glee dancing in his eyes.

It was wonderful to see them, but I kept searching. Clutching my Butterfly pendant through my robe, I scrutinized all the guard’s faces. He had to be here. If the Commander was here, posing as the Ixian Ambassador, then Valek had to be close by.

But Valek didn’t know about Commander Ambrose’s secret. Only I knew about what the Commander called his mutation, having been born a woman with a man’s soul. Since Valek didn’t know the Ambassador was the Commander, he probably would be with whoever was posing as the Commander in Ixia.

Unless the Commander had sent Valek on another mission, or, even worse, maybe Valek still hadn’t recovered from giving me his strength. Maybe he had been injured while weak. Or dead. Horrible scenarios chased through my mind as the delegation exchanged formal greetings.

I willed the pleasantries to move faster. My need to question Ari and Janco about Valek grew with every second.

With my thoughts on Valek, I found my eyes lingering on the Ambassador’s aide. His straight black hair fell to his ears and clung limply to his head. A soft fat nose sat above colorless lips and a weak chin. He appeared to be bored as he scanned the Councilors and magicians in the room with no hint of intelligence in his blue eyes.

Our gazes met for a moment. Sapphire-blue lightning struck my heart. That rat. I wanted to slug Valek and kiss him at the same time.

His expression never changed. He gave no sign of having seen me at all as his attention refocused on the Councilors. I could hardly bear the rest of the meeting.

Too impatient to wait until the meeting concluded, I tried to link with Valek’s mind. I encountered a formidable barrier stronger than any of the Master Magicians’. Valek sensed the magic and glanced at me.

When the introductions and formalities came to an end, the Ixian delegation was served refreshments and every one milled about in small groups.

I headed for Ari and Janco, who stood near the Ambassador as if they had metal rods strapped onto their backs, but Bavol Cacao, my clan leader, stopped me.

“I have a message from your father,” Bavol said. He handed me a small scroll.

I thanked him. This was only the second time I had talked to him since he had arrived at the Citadel. He had delivered the clothes Nutty had sewn for me. Even though I wanted to talk to my friends, I inquired after the clan.

“Dealing with the usual petty problems, and trying to combat some fungus that is eating through the wood on a few walls.” He smiled. “I’ve no doubt that Esau’ll figure it out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check to make sure the Ambassador’s suite is ready.”

Before Bavol could walk away, I touched his sleeve. “What does the suite look like?” I asked him.

Puzzled, he said, “Our most opulent chambers. The Citadel’s guest suites have every convenience. Why?”

“The Ambassador doesn’t like opulence. Perhaps you could have some of it removed? Simple elegance would suit her better.”

Bavol considered. “She’s a cousin of Commander Ambrose. Have you met her?”

“No. But I know most Ixians agree with the Commander’s dislike for extravagance.”

“Your concern is noted. I’ll see to the changes.” Bavol hurried away.

I broke the wax seal on the scroll. Unrolling the paper, I read the note then closed my eyes for a moment. In my mind’s eye I saw my story line twist into a big complicated noose-like knot. According to the letter, Esau and Perl were on their way to the Keep to visit me. They planned to arrive five days before the full moon.

Who else could come? If I had gotten a message from the underworld announcing Reyad and Mogkan’s arrival, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

Tucking the note away, I shook my head. I had no control over these events and I would deal with my parents when they arrived. I approached the Ixians. The Ambassador chatted with Bain, Second Magician.

Her gold eyes flicked to me and Bain stopped speaking to introduce us. “Ambassador Signe, this is Apprentice Yelena Liana Zaltana.”

I clasped her cool hand in the Ixian greeting, and then bowed formally in the Sitian salutation.

She returned the bow. “I have heard much about you from my cousin. How are your studies progressing?”

“Very well, thank you. Please extend my best wishes to Commander Ambrose,” I said.

“I will.” Signe turned toward her aide. “This is Adviser Ilom.”

I held my face in a neutral expression as I shook his limp hand. He mumbled a greeting then ignored me as someone not worth his time or attention. I knew Valek had to be acting, yet his complete disregard made me worry if his feelings for me had changed.

I didn’t have much time to brood, though. When Bain led Signe and Ilom to meet another Councilor, Ari grabbed me in a quick bear hug.

“What’s with the dress?” Janco asked.

“Better than that wrinkled uniform,” I countered. “And is that gray hair in your goatee?”

Janco smoothed a hand over his facial hair. “A little present from my run-in with a sword. Or should I say from when the sword had a run-in with me?” His eyes lit up. “Want to see the scar? It’s cool.” He started pulling his shirt out of his pants.

“Janco,” Ari warned. “We’re not supposed to be fraternizing with the Sitians.”

“But she’s not Sitian. Right, Yelena? You haven’t gone south on us, have you?” Janco’s voice held mock horror. “Because if you have I can’t give you your present.”

I took my switchblade out, showing the inscription to Janco. “What about ‘Sieges weathered, fight together, friends forever’? Does that change if I become an official southerner?”

Janco rubbed the hair on his chin, considering.

“No,” Ari said. “You could change into a goat and it would still apply.”

“Only if she made us some goat’s cheese,” Janco said.

Ari rolled his light blue eyes. “Just give her the gift.”

“It’s from Valek,” Janco said, digging into his pack. “Since he was unable to accompany the delegation.”

“Suicide,” Ari said. “The Sitians would execute Valek if they caught him in their lands.”

Concern for Valek coursed through me, and I glanced around the hall, looking to see if anyone else had recognized him. Everyone seemed to be engaged in conversation except Cahil. He stood alone, watching the Ixians. He met my gaze and frowned.

At Janco’s triumphant grunt I turned back to my friends. Once I saw what Janco had in his palm, all thoughts about Cahil disappeared. A black stone snake with glints of silver twisted four times around his fingers. The snake’s scales had been carved with a diamond pattern along its back, and two tiny sapphires gleamed from its eyes. One of Valek’s carvings.

“It’s a bracelet,” Janco said. He took my hand and slipped the snake over it until it fit onto my forearm. “It was too small for me,” Janco joked. “So I told Valek he should give it to you. Looks like it fits you perfectly.”

I marveled at my gift. Why had Valek chosen a snake? Apprehension coiled in my stomach.

“Things have been quiet since you left,” Ari said. “Even though we’re not part of his corps, Valek made Janco a fox statue and a horse for me. They’re the nicest things we own.”

We talked until Ari and Janco had to follow the Ambassador to her suite. They told me they would have rotating shifts to guard Signe and Ilom and would have some time to talk to me again. I offered to show them around the Citadel and perhaps the Keep.

Irys found me before I left the great hall and she accompanied me through the Citadel’s streets to the meeting to discuss the ongoing efforts to find Opal. My ever-present guards, who had been discreet during the ceremonies, followed us.

“Janco looks great,” Irys said. “That was a quick recovery from such a severe injury. I’m glad.”

Irys’s words reminded me of something Story Weaver had said. With all the commotion surrounding Opal and the delegation, I hadn’t discussed Moon Man’s claims with her.

“Irys, what is a Soulfinder? My—”

Don’t say anymore aloud, Irys’s voice admonished in my mind. That’s not something you want anyone to overhear.

Why not? Why all the fear? My hand sought Valek’s bracelet. I twisted it around my arm.

She sighed. Sitian history is full of wonderful and brave magicians, who have joined the clans together and stopped the wars. Unfortunately, those tales aren’t told in the taverns and to the children. The tales of the few magicians who have caused harm seem to be the ones whispered by the fireside. With Mogkan’s corruption and now this beast that has Opal, I don’t want rumors and stories to circulate about a Soulfinder.

Irys fiddled with the brown feathers on her hawk mask that she carried. About a hundred and fifty years ago, a Soulfinder was born. He was considered a gift from the underworld. His strong magic affected people’s souls, healing both emotional and physical pain. Then he discovered he could pluck a soul from the air before it could float to the sky, waking the dead.

But something happened. We don’t know what, but he became bitter and he went from helping people to using them. Keeping the souls for himself, he woke the dead without their souls. These emotionless creatures followed his orders and had no remorse for their actions. That ability is considered an aberration and is against our Ethical Code. With his soulless army, he had control of Sitia for many many dark years before the Master Magicians could stop him.

Before I could ask for details, Irys continued her story. Yelena, you have all the abilities of a Soulfinder. When you breathed for Tula, you shocked me and alarmed Roze. That’s why I was so harsh with you about losing your guards. I had to show Roze I could control you. But today you made me realize that was wrong. It was probably the same type of panicked response that pushed the Soulfinder over the edge. We need to discover the extent of your abilities before we categorize you. Who knows? You could be a Master Magician.

I laughed, thinking of how easy it had been for Irys to ambush me and break through my magical defenses. “Highly doubtful,” I said. And also doubtful was Moon Man’s claims that I was a Soulfinder. Tula’s soul was stolen. I could breathe for her, yet I couldn’t wake her without it. I shared some abilities with a Soulfinder, but obviously not all.

As we drew closer to the Keep’s entrance, I noticed a small beggar wearing a dirty cloak huddled by the wall, shaking a cup. Annoyed that I was the only one to notice, I walked over and dropped a coin into the cup. The beggar looked up, and I saw a flash of Fisk’s smile before he hid his face again.

“We have news about the one you seek. Come to the market tomorrow.”

“Hey, you! Stop bothering the lady,” said one of my guards.

I spun to glare at the guard. When I turned back, Fisk was gone.

I mulled over Fisk’s message. My first instinct involved ditching my guards tomorrow and meeting with him, an Ixian response, but I decided to try the Sitian approach and see what the others had found regarding Opal.

Leif leaned over a table in the meeting room, studying a map. He greeted my arrival with a surprised expression, but I refused to acknowledge him and had to suppress a sudden fury that welled in my throat. I had no idea how I would fulfill my promise to Moon Man when all I wanted to do was shake Leif and demand an explanation.

Irys broke the silence and filled me in on the group’s efforts so far. They had divided the Citadel into sections and one magician was assigned to search each quarter. Councilor Harun, the Sandseed’s Councilman, had taken his people to hunt for Opal in the part of the Avibian Plains that bordered the Citadel. No clues had been found.

“We’ll send guards to search every building in the Citadel,” Roze said, sweeping into the meeting room with Bain on her heels.

“Which will cause Opal’s immediate death,” I said.

Roze sneered at me. “Who invited you?” She gave Irys a poisonous glare.

“She’s right, Roze,” Irys said. “News of the searches would spread like a barn fire and he would be alerted.”

“Does anyone have a better idea?”

“I do,” I said into the silence.

All eyes turned toward me. Roze’s gaze froze my blood.

“I have friends in the Citadel who can get information without calling attention to themselves. Seems they might have already learned something, but I need to meet them at the market tomorrow.” Under my sleeve, I twisted Valek’s snake around on my wrist, waiting for their response.

“No,” Roze said. “It could be a trap.”

“Now you’re concerned for my welfare? How touching. Although I think jealousy is the real emotion,” I shot back.

“Ladies, please,” said Bain. “Let us focus on the task at hand. Do you trust this source, Yelena?”

“Yes.”

“It would not look unusual for Yelena to go to the market to shop. Her guards would be with her,” Irys added.

“The guards would scare away my source,” I said, which was true enough for my purposes. “Also my source might lead me somewhere, so I’ll have to move quick.”

“But you’ll need protection. We could disguise your guards,” Irys offered.

“No. They’re not the protection I need. I can defend myself against a physical threat, but I need to defend against a magical one.” Irys was a powerful ally.

Irys nodded, and we made plans for the next day.

After the meeting, I went to the dining room to grab something to eat and I picked up a few apples for Kiki and Topaz. My guards continued to follow me, and it felt odd how I had grown used to their presence. At least I didn’t need to worry about Goel trying another surprise attack. Especially when I had so many other things to occupy my thoughts.

I hadn’t been able to ride since my house arrest, and, even if I couldn’t leave the Keep, at least I could practice riding. Kiki’s mother had sneered at my saddle, so I wanted to learn how to ride bareback. Besides, it could be a useful skill to learn. In an emergency I wouldn’t have time to saddle her.

And I needed the distraction. Bad thoughts of losing my guards and sneaking into a certain Adviser’s room in the Citadel’s guest quarters kept surfacing. I drowned the dangerous impulse. I wouldn’t risk Valek’s life for my own selfish reasons. Pulling up my sleeve, I examined Valek’s gift in the late afternoon sunlight, running a finger along its back. The bracelet even felt like a snake, although its body language seemed to indicate a protective rather than an aggressive stance.

Again, I wondered at his choice. Perhaps he had somehow witnessed my nightmares about snakes, but why make one as a present? Wouldn’t a mongoose make a better gift?

Kiki waited for me by the pasture’s gate. She nickered in greeting, and I fed her an apple before climbing over the fence. My guards took up positions outside the gate, close but not too close. They were learning.

As Kiki ate, I checked her over. She had nettles snarled in her tail, and dried mud on her belly and caked around her hooves.

“Didn’t anyone groom you?” I asked aloud, tsking.

“She wouldn’t let anyone near her,” Cahil said. He held a bucket of brushes and combs over the rail. “Seems only you can do the honors.”

I took the handle. “Thanks.” I pulled out a currycomb and began to loosen the mud on her coat.

Cahil rested his arms on the fence. “Saw you talking to the northerners today. You know some of them?”

I glanced at Cahil. A serious expression gripped his face. So his timely arrival with the supplies hadn’t been a coincidence. He had waited to ambush me with questions about the Ixians.

Choosing my words with care, I said, “Two of the guards are my friends.”

“The ones who taught you how to fight?” Cahil tried to sound casual. “Yes.”

“What division do they belong to?”

I stopped brushing Kiki and stared at him. “Cahil, what do you really want to know?”

He stammered.

“You’re not thinking of jeopardizing the delegation are you? Planning to sabotage the meetings? Or are you more interested in ambushing them on their way back to Ixia?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“That would be unwise,” I continued. “You’ll make both Sitia and Ixia your enemy, and besides…”

“Besides what?” he demanded.

“The Commander’s elite guards surround the Ambassador. It would be suicide to make a kidnapping attempt.”

“Aren’t you just full of wisdom today,” Cahil said with a sharp jab of sarcasm. “Your concern for the welfare of my men is truly heartwarming. Are you sure you’re not just protecting your northern friends? Or perhaps protecting your heart mate?”

He had to be guessing. I called his bluff. “What are you ranting about?”

“I was watching you when the delegation arrived. Although your face never moved, I saw your hand fly to that Butterfly pendant under your robe. I know the one who gave that to you is here. In fact, he gave you another gift today.”

I turned back to work on Kiki, hiding my face from Cahil. “If you know so much then why are you asking me questions?”

“Who is he?” When I refused to answer, Cahil continued, “It’s the man who’s missing half of his right ear. The one who gave you the snake.”

Cahil wore such a smug expression that I laughed. “Janco? We bicker like brother and sister. No. He was just delivering the gift.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I shrugged. “Here.” I handed a wire brush to Cahil. “You can get the nettles out of her tail.” When I saw him hesitate, I added, “Don’t worry, she won’t kick you.”

We worked for a while in silence.

Cahil, though, wasn’t content with the quiet. “You’re happier now that your northern friends are here.”

“I missed them,” I agreed.

“Would you want to go back to Ixia?”

“Yes. But that’s impossible because I’m a magician.” And there was a signed order for my execution, but I thought it prudent not to mention that.

“Nothing’s impossible.” Cahil finished Kiki’s tail and began combing her mane. “When I gain control of Ixia and free the people, you would have a place by my side if you chose to accept it.”

Avoiding his unspoken question, I gave him a dubious look. “Do you still believe Sitia will support you even after they’ve been making nice with the northern delegation?”

With the passion of a mystic, Cahil said, “All my life I have been told I would rule Ixia one day. Every lesson, every interaction and every emotion was tailored to that single purpose. Even the Council encouraged me to plan and train and wait for the perfect moment to attack.” Cahil’s blue eyes radiated such a pure intensity that I almost stepped back.

“Then the north agrees to a trade treaty and they visit Sitia.” He spat the words out. “Suddenly the Commander is the Council’s friend, and my reason for existing is no longer supported. The Council has failed to realize that the Commander is deceiving them, and when he tips his hand, I’ll be there. I have many loyal followers who are equally unhappy about the Council’s dalliances with the north.”

“You’re going to need a trained military if you plan to go against the Commander’s forces,” I said. “And if Valek—”

“What about Valek?” Cahil grabbed my arm. His fingers pressed my bracelet into my skin. I winced in pain.

Kiki cocked an ear. Kick?

No. Not yet.

“If Valek discovers what you’re planning, he’ll stop you before you can rally your men.”

“Do you really think he can stop me?” he asked.

“Yes.” I pulled my arm out of Cahil’s grasp, but he caught my wrist with his other hand and yanked my sleeve up with his free hand, exposing the snake circled around my arm. Before I could stop him, he let go of my sleeve and tugged my collar down. My black stone Butterfly pendant swung free. The silver spots on its wings glinted in the sunlight, matching the silver on the snake’s body.

“And you would know,” Cahil said, releasing me. His face took on a stunned expression as he made a sudden realization.

I staggered back.

“As the Commander’s food taster, you worked with Valek every day. He had to teach you about poisons and poisoning techniques.” He stared at me in revulsion. “Marrok told me that when the royal family members were assassinated, the assassin would leave behind a black statue that glittered with silver. It was the assassin’s calling card. Only after the Commander took control of Ixia was Valek named the assassin.”

I returned to brushing Kiki. “That’s a big leap in logic, Cahil. Based on a bedtime story, which I’m sure gets more interesting with each telling, and a couple of trinkets. Valek is not the only person who carves things out of those rocks. Think about that before you leap to conclusions.”

Refusing to meet Cahil’s gaze, I put the grooming equipment back into the bucket and led Kiki to her stall. By the time I finished filling her water pail, Cahil had gone.

My guards trailed me to the baths, and stayed outside while I washed off the horse hair and dust that coated my skin. The sun had set by the time we reached my rooms. I waited outside, shivering in the cold night air while one guard searched inside. Given the all clear, I entered my dark living room. I shuttered and locked my windows against the chilly wind, then lit a fire in the hearth.

“That’s better,” said a voice that set my soul on fire.

I turned. Valek lounged on a chair with his booted feet propped up on the table.

25

VALEK HELD THE VALMUR statue I had bought for him long ago, admiring it in the firelight. He wore a simple black shirt and pants. The clothes did not appear to be as tight fitting as his hooded sneak suit, but seemed snug enough not to impede his movements. “How did you—”

“Fool your guards? They’re not very good. They forgot to check the ceiling for spiders.” Valek grinned. His angular face softened.

Startled, I realized he wasn’t in disguise. “This is dangerous.”

“I knew falling for you was dangerous, love.”

“I meant coming to Sitia. Being here in the Magician’s Keep with guards just outside my door.” I gestured wildly.

“It’s only dangerous if they know I’m here. According to them, I’m just Ambassador Signe’s lowly and dull-witted aide.” Valek stood; his movements liquid. The black fabric of his clothes clung to his lean build. He stretched his arms out to the side. “See, I’m not even armed.”

He made a weak attempt to look innocent, but I knew better. “Should I guess how many concealed weapons you have or should I strip search you?”

“A strip search is the only way to be absolutely certain.” Valek’s deep blue eyes danced with delight.

I took three steps and was wrapped in his arms, where I belonged. No confusion here. No worries here. No troubles here. Just Valek’s scent, an intoxicating combination of musk and spice.

During our short trip to the bed, I found two knives strapped to Valek’s forearms, darts and other throwing implements tucked inside his belt, a switchblade strapped to his right thigh and a short sword in his boot.

I knew more weapons hid within his clothes, but once I touched his skin, the game ceased to matter as we became reacquainted. With his body next to mine, I felt all the empty places inside me fill with his essence. Home.

It wasn’t until deep into the night that we stopped to talk. Lying next to him under the blanket, I thanked him in a low voice for the snake bracelet and told him about Tula, Opal and the reason for the guards.

“And you said it was dangerous for me,” Valek said, pointing out the irony. “Good thing I’m here. You’ll need backup that can’t be influenced by magic.”

Valek’s immunity to magic could be considered another concealed weapon. Hope of recovering Opal unharmed bloomed in my chest for the first time since her capture. “How can you provide backup? You’re supposed to be with the Ambassador.”

He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ve got that covered. This is not the first time, nor will it be the last time, I’ve been in Sitia. Keeping tabs on our neighbors has always been one of my duties as security chief. Fun stuff.”

“Until you’re caught,” I said. My mood soured, but Valek seemed unaffected by my comment.

“There’s always that chance. Part of the allure, I suppose.” He nuzzled my neck and sighed with regret. “I better get back. It’ll be dawn soon.” He rolled out of bed and began to dress. “Besides, I don’t want to be here when your boyfriend arrives.”

“Who?” I sat up.

“The blonde that follows your every move with his lovesick eyes,” Valek teased.

“Cahil?” I laughed, dismissing him. “He thought Janco was my heart mate. I think you should feel more jealousy toward my horse. She’s the one who has stolen my heart.”

Valek stilled as the amusement dropped from his face. “What’s his name?”

“Her name is Kiki.”

He shook his head. “Not the horse. The blonde.”

“Cahil.”

“Cahil Ixia? The King’s nephew? He’s alive?” Valek seemed confused.

“I thought you knew,” I said.

I had imagined Valek had let Cahil live once he had reached Sitia. But now Cahil’s comment about Valek forgetting to count the bodies when he had assassinated the royal family came to mind. With a growing horror, I realized my mistake.

“Valek, don’t kill him.”

“He’s a threat to the Commander.” A dead flatness covered Valek’s eyes. He wore his stone face. Unyielding. Uncompromising.

“He’s my friend.”

Valek’s cold killer’s gaze met mine. “The second he becomes more than a potential threat, he’s dead.”

Valek had pledged to protect the Commander, and only his love for me kept him from assassinating Cahil that night. Valek’s loyalty was without fail. If the Commander had given him a direct order to kill me, Valek would have. Lucky for us that the Commander hadn’t given Valek that order.

“I’m glad the Commander is safe within Ixia’s borders.” Valek’s face softened and he laughed. “He’s taking a vacation. He’s the only person I know who thinks hunting sand spiders is relaxing.”

“Aren’t you worried he’d get stung?” My skin crawled just thinking about the poisonous spiders. They were the size of a small dog and jumped with a lethal quickness. But then I remembered that the Commander was really in the Citadel’s guest quarters.

“No. I still can’t beat the Commander in a knife fight. His skills are more than adequate to handle a sand spider. Plotting royalty is another matter, though. I’ll have to keep an eye on this Cahil.”

I knew it was a matter of time before Valek found out about Cahil’s plans to regain his kingdom. Then what would I do? Those thoughts reminded me about something Cahil had said that hadn’t sounded right.

“Valek, did you used to leave your carvings behind when you assassinated someone?”

“Have you been listening to Sitian rumors?” He smiled.

I nodded. “But I don’t necessarily believe all that I hear.”

“Good. Although, I’m embarrassed to admit that one is true. I was young, cocky and stupid, enjoying being known as the Death Artist. I even started leaving a carving before I began a job, letting my victim find it.” Valek shook his head at the memory. “That nonsense almost got me killed, so I stopped it altogether.”

Valek finished dressing. “I’ll be at the market today in case anything happens.”

He kissed me and I clung to him for a moment, wishing we could run away and forget about soul-stealing magicians and Cahil. But that wasn’t for us. Dealing with poisoners, schemers and killers seemed to be our lot in life. Besides, we would probably grow bored living in safety without any problems to worry about. But still I wished for it.

With reluctance, I let Valek go. He nodded toward the door. I opened it and distracted the guard. When I returned to the living room, the heavy darkness pressed on my skin as the icy air soaked into my bones. Valek was gone.

Irys and I walked to the market that morning. The bleak, overcast sky reflected my mood. I huddled in my cloak. It was the first time I needed to wear it during the daytime.

People crowded the market. They hurried to get their shopping done before the dark rain clouds that hovered on the horizon could descend on the Citadel.

I made a few small purchases before I felt a familiar tug on my sleeve. Fisk stood next to me. He flashed me a smile. His face no longer held the gauntness of malnutrition, and I could see his busy gang of children carrying packages for the shoppers.

“You wanted to find a strange man living with a young girl?” he asked.

“Yes. Have you seen them?”

He grinned, holding out his hand. “Information costs money.”

“I see you’re branching out into a new trade. Very wise,” I said as I handed him a Sitian copper. “But watch who you deal with. Some won’t take kindly to your inquiries.”

He nodded with understanding and I saw a wisdom far beyond his nine years in his light brown eyes. I suppressed a sigh. In Ixia, Fisk’s intelligence would be encouraged. He would grow up to be an Adviser or a high-ranking officer, but in Sitia he had grown up on the street, begging for food and money. But not anymore.

I smiled. “What do you know?”

“I’ll show you.” Fisk pulled on my hand.

Irys, who had remained silent during our exchange, asked, “Can I come with you?”

Fisk ducked his head, looking at the ground. “If it pleases you, Fourth Magician,” he mumbled.

A wry grin touched Irys’s face. “So much for my disguise.”

Fisk glanced up in surprise. “Only the beggars who work near the Council’s Hall would recognize you, Fourth Magician. With not much to do all day, they study the Council members. It’s a game to be the first to recognize one of the Master Magicians.”

Irys considered Fisk’s comments. He squirmed under her scrutiny until he couldn’t stand it any longer and turned away from her stare.

“Come. This way,” he said.

We followed him through the Citadel. Cutting across back alleys and empty courtyards, I wondered if Valek followed us. The residents seemed intent on their chores and hardly noticed our passage.

Fisk stopped before we reached an open plaza. A large jade statue of a tortoise with intricate carvings on its shell occupied the middle of the square. The dark green turtle shot water out of its mouth and into a pool of water.

Pointing to a building on the opposite side of the plaza, Fisk said, “On the second floor lives a man with red lines on his hands. He’s new and no one knows him. He wears a cloak that hides his face. My brother has seen a young girl enter the building, carrying packages.”

I looked at Irys. Was this quarter searched with magic? I asked her with my mind.

Yes. But not by a Master.

She stretched out her awareness and my mind’s eye went with her. Our minds touched a young woman nursing a baby on the first floor. Her thoughts on getting the baby to nap after he’d eaten his fill. Another woman on the third floor worried about the possibility of rain. We could feel no one on the second floor, but Ferde’s magic matched Irys’s in strength and he would not be easy to detect.

I could push harder, but he would know we were here, Irys said. I will come back with some reinforcements.

Who?

Roze and Bain. Together we should be able to subdue him. And once he’s unconscious, he’ll be easier to transport to the Keep’s prison.

Why unconscious?

A magician is helpless when unconscious.

Sleeping? I asked in alarm.

No. Only if it’s a drugged sleep or you get knocked out.

What happens once he wakes? Won’t he be able to use his magic to escape?

The Keep’s prison cells contain a power loop. If a magician tries to use magic within the cell, the loop absorbs the magical power and directs it back into the cell’s defenses until the magician is exhausted.

Fisk, who had been staring at us in fascination, cleared his throat. “Do you think the one you seek is living here?”

“Could the young girl your brother saw be the one with the baby?” Irys asked Fisk.

He shook his head. “That’s Ruby. Sometimes she hires me to watch Jatee.”

I grinned. “You’re turning into quite the entrepreneur.”

“I bought my mother a new dress,” he said with pride.

Rain began to fall as we made our way back to the market. With a wave, Fisk joined his friends and disappeared. The market emptied as the vendors packed up their wares. One woman bumped into me in her haste to get out of the rain. She shouted an apology, but never slowed her pace. Rumbles of thunder echoed off the hard marble walls of the Citadel.

I’ll find Roze and Bain. You return to the Keep, Irys instructed.

But I want to be there when you search that building.

No. Stay at the Keep, Yelena. He wants you. And if something goes wrong and he threatens to hurt Opal, you know you’ll give yourself up. It’s too dangerous.

I wanted to argue. But Irys was right, and, if I followed her despite her instructions, she wouldn’t trust me again.

Irys headed toward the Council Hall to find Roze, who had an appointment with the Ixian Ambassador. A meeting I would have loved to eavesdrop on. The arrogant Master Magician against the powerful Commander.

The rain began to fall in sheets, soaking my cloak. When I tucked my cold, wet hands into the pockets, my fingers touched paper. I couldn’t remember putting anything there. I hadn’t worn my cloak since coming to Sitia, although, I had used it to sleep when we had camped on the Avibian Plains. Perhaps the paper contained a cryptic message from Story Weaver. I laughed; it seemed to be something he would enjoy doing, leaving a puzzling note in my cloak. However, the mystery would have to wait until I found some shelter from the rain.

My guards waited at the Keep’s entrance. They followed me as I headed toward my room. After they searched the interior, I invited them inside, but they declined, citing some military regulation.

After I started a roaring fire and hung up my sodden cloak, I extracted the paper. It was a message for me. My hands turned to ice as I read the words, and even the heat from the hearth couldn’t warm them up.

“What does the message say?” Valek asked, coming from the bedroom.

I had ceased to be amazed by his abilities. Dripping wet, he must have come in through the bedroom window past one of my guards.

He plucked the paper from my hand. “She had some rudimentary skills. Probably a pickpocket hired to give you this note. Did you get a good look at her face?”

I made the belated connection between the woman who had bumped into me in the market and the message. “No. Her hood covered most of her head.”

Valek shrugged, but his gaze pierced me after he scanned the note. “Interesting development.”

Yes, Valek would think this turn of events interesting. However, I found myself conflicted.

“Seems the killer is one step ahead of the magicians,” he said. “He knows they won’t exchange you for Opal. So he has taken matters into his own hands. How important is Opal’s life to you?”

Valek had, as usual, gotten to the heart of the matter. Ferde’s note specified a location and a new date for the exchange. Three nights before the full moon, which was four days from now. I guessed that he needed some time to get me ready for the Efe ritual. My skin crawled with dread and I forced horrible images of being raped and tortured from my mind.

I could tell Irys and the others. They would set a trap for Ferde. But they wouldn’t let me near the site, so the trap was bound to fail.

Or I wouldn’t tell Irys about the note and would go to the meeting site alone. Irys’s warnings of what would happen if Ferde absorbed my magic filtered through my mind. He would then be powerful enough to control Sitia.

Let Opal die to save Sitia? I had promised myself that I wouldn’t let that happen to her. And what would stop Ferde once Opal died from tricking another magician into giving him her soul? Nothing.

I would need to keep this new situation tucked deep beneath my surface thoughts. Irys had been true to her word to not pry into my mind, but with the fate of Sitia at stake, I wouldn’t be surprised if she broke her promise.

My gaze met Valek’s. Magic couldn’t detect him.

“Her life is important,” I said, answering his question. “But capturing the killer is vital.”

“What do you need, love?”

26

VALEK AND I MADE SOME initial plans for rescuing Opal. When he returned to the Ixian delegation, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The next day I used my free time to practice controlling my magic and to do some physical training in preparation for my encounter with Ferde.

Irys, Roze and Bain had raided the apartment where, according to Fisk, the man with the red hands lived. The rooms were empty, and, by the mess that was scattered on the floor, the occupants had left in a hurry. Either someone had tipped him off, or he had felt the Masters’ approach. A dead end either way, which made Valek and my plans critical.

I also began demonstrating self-defense techniques to Zitora, finally keeping my side of our bargain to trade the Third Magician’s pile of clothes for defense training. The review helped in my training, as well.

The rain from the day before puddled in the training yard, and splattered us with mud as we worked on basic self-defense techniques. A apt student, Zitora quickly grasped the concepts.

“I pull my wrist out of your grasp through your thumb?” Zitora asked.

“Yes. It’s the weakest part.” I grunted as she yanked her arm from me. “Perfect. Now I’ll show you how to not only free your wrist, but twist your hand so you can grab your attacker’s arm and break it.”

Her eyes lit up with glee and I laughed. “Everyone thinks you’re so sweet and nice. I almost feel sorry for the first person to try and take advantage of that. Almost!”

We worked for a while until her moves became more instinctive.

“That’s a good start,” I said. “Those moves will help you against someone stronger than you, but if you go against a well-trained opponent, you’ll have to use different tactics.”

Zitora looked past my shoulder and her tawny eyes grew wide. “You mean I could take on someone like him?”

I turned. Ari strode into the training area with Janco at his heels. Wearing his sleeveless training shirt and short pants, his powerful physique was apparent. While Janco might be leaner than his partner, I knew his speed could match Ari’s strength. They carried bows and broad smiles. My Keep guards looked queasy and undecided. I waved them off.

“Yes,” I said to Zitora. “With the proper training, you could escape from him. You wouldn’t last in a sparring match, but that’s not what self-defense is all about. Remember what I told you? Hit and—”

“Git!” Janco added. “Run like a bunny with a wolf on its tail. I see you’re passing our wisdom on, Yelena.” Janco turned to Zitora, and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “She was trained by the very best instructors in all of Ixia.”

“Another rule of self-defense is never believe everything you hear,” Ari said when Zitora appeared to be impressed by Janco’s words.

“How did you get past the Keep’s guards?” I asked Ari.

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “The guard asked for our names and our reason for visiting. We told him and he went into the guardhouse to consult with someone. When he came out he told us where to find you.”

There must be a magician posted at the gate who could communicate by magic to others in the Keep. That was good to know.

“Can we join you?” Janco asked. “I learned a few new self-defense moves. They’re nasty, too!”

“We were just finishing up,” I said.

Zitora wiped her face with a towel. “I need to get cleaned up before my Council meeting.” She hurried off with a wave.

“Are you too tired for a match?” Janco asked. “I want to make sure you’re at your best when I beat you.” He smiled sweetly.

“He’s been getting into trouble all day,” Ari said. “Too much time spent standing around, guarding Ambassador Signe and Adviser Ilom as they sat through one meeting after another.”

“Boring!” agreed Janco.

The fact that Valek had managed to fool Ari and Janco with his Ilom disguise made me feel a little better about his presence in Sitia.

“I could be half-asleep and still beat you, Janco,” I countered with my own boast.

He spun his bow and stepped back into a fighting stance. I picked my bow up and set my mind into my zone of concentration. I attacked.

“Good to know you’re keeping fit,” Janco puffed. He retreated a few feet, but counterattacked with determination. “She’s strong and spry, but can she fly?” Janco chanted.

I smiled, realizing how much I had missed his fighting rhymes. A second before he moved, I knew that he would feint high to draw my guard up so he could strike my exposed ribs. My failure to take the bait and to counter the rib strike shocked Janco into silence. Laughing, I drove him back, swept his feet out from under him, and scooted back to avoid the splash of mud when he dropped into a puddle.

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Janco said, “Gee, Ari, and you were worried about her.”

“She’s learned a new trick since coming to Sitia,” Cahil said. He was leaning on the training yard’s fence, and must have watched the match.

Ari’s posture turned defensive and alert as Cahil moved to join us. Armed with his long sword, Cahil wore a loose sand-colored tunic and brown pants.

After I introduced Cahil, Ari still didn’t relax. He kept a wary eye on him. I hoped Ari and Janco didn’t recognize Cahil’s name. Names of the dead King’s family were not mentioned in the Commander’s history books of the takeover, and if the older citizens of Ixia remembered, they kept it to themselves.

“What trick?” Janco asked.

“A magic trick. She anticipated your every move by reading your mind. Devious, isn’t she?” Cahil asked.

Before Janco could respond, I said, “I didn’t read his mind. I kept my own mind open and picked up on his intentions.”

“Sounds like the same thing to me,” Cahil countered. “Leif was right when he accused you of using magic to beat me that time we sparred in the forest. Not only devious, but a liar, too.”

I placed a hand on Ari’s arm to keep him from throttling Cahil. “Cahil, I didn’t need to read your mind. Truth is you’re not as skilled as Ari and Janco. In fact, they taught me to find that zone of concentration, or else I never would have the chance to win against them. There is only one person I know who could take them on and win without any help,” I said.

Janco considered. “One?” He scratched at the scar in his right ear, thinking.

“Valek,” Ari said.

“Oh, yes. The infamous Valek. I’m sure his lover would think that highly of him. Or should I call you his spy?” Cahil stared at me in challenge.

“I think you should leave. Now,” Ari said. His voice rumbled close to a growl.

“This is my home. Thanks to Valek. You leave,” Cahil said to Ari, but his eyes never left my face.

Janco stepped between us. “Let’s see if I have this right,” he said to Cahil. “Yelena beats you, so you want a rematch, but you think she’ll use her magic instead of her fighting skills to win. That’s quite the quandary.” Janco pulled at his goatee. “Since I taught her everything she knows, and I don’t have any magic, thank fate, how about you fight me? Your long sword against my bow.”

“You taught her everything?” Ari asked.

Janco waved away his comment. “Details, details. I’m thinking big picture here, Ari.”

Cahil agreed to the match. With a confident expression, Cahil assumed a fighting stance then attacked. Janco’s bow blurred and he unarmed Cahil within three moves. His mood didn’t improve when Janco told Cahil he needed to use a lighter sword.

“She helped you,” Cahil said to Janco. “I should know better than to trust a bunch of northerners.” Cahil stalked away with the promise of a future encounter flaming in his eyes.

I shrugged his comments off. Cahil wouldn’t ruin my time with my friends. Challenging Janco to another match, I swung my bow toward him, but he blocked it with ease and countered with one of his lightning-fast jabs.

The three of us worked together for a while. Even connected to my mental zone, Ari still beat me twice.

Ari grinned. “I’m trying not to project my intentions,” he said after dumping me in the mud.

The daylight disappeared in a hurry. Tired, covered with layers of mud and sweat and smelling as if I could attract dung beetles, I longed for a bath.

Before Ari and Janco headed back to the Citadel, Ari put a large hand on my shoulder. “Be extremely careful. I don’t like the way Cahil looked at you.”

“I’m always careful, Ari.” I waved and aimed my sore body toward the bathhouse.

The cooling season was ending; I could see the Ice Queen constellation glittering in the clear night sky. The half-moon glowed like a jewel. Only six days until the full moon. I shivered in the cold air. The puddles would be frozen by morning.

My thoughts lingered on Cahil and how fast our relationship had changed back to those first days when he had believed I was a northern spy. A full circle. I reached for my snake bracelet, spinning it around my arm.

Only when I noticed that the campus seemed strangely empty and quiet did I look around for my guards. Used to their presence, it took me a few moments before I realized that they no longer followed me.

Pulling my bow, I searched for attackers. I saw no one. I drew power to project my awareness out, but a bug bit me on the neck, and, distracted, I slapped at it. My fingers found a tiny dart. The hollow metal end dripped with my blood.

I lied to Ari. I wasn’t careful. I had trusted my guards to keep me safe. Hundreds of excuses for my lapse churned through my mind as the world around me began to spin. No one to blame but myself.

Unfortunately this acknowledgement of my own stupidity didn’t prevent the blackness from claiming me.

27

A SHARP PAIN AND A BURNING numbness in my shoulders roused me from sleep. With a rank taste in my dry mouth, I glanced around. Nothing looked familiar. And why was I standing? Not standing, but hanging. Looking up, I spotted the reason for my position. My wrists were manacled to the ends of a long chain that hung from a thick wooden beam in the ceiling. Once I put my weight on my feet, the pain in my shoulders eased somewhat.

Studying my surroundings, I saw rusted shovels and dirt encrusted hoes lining the wooden walls. Spiderwebs clung to dull-edged scythes. Dust coated the tools. Sunlight filtered in through small cracks and holes, illuminating what I guessed to be an abandoned shed with a muted light.

My confusion about how I had gotten here disappeared the moment I heard his voice behind me.

“We’ll start your lessons now.” Goel’s satisfied tone caused my stomach to lurch.

“Turn around and see what I have planned for you,” he said.

My skin prickled with fear, but I forced my face into a neutral expression before I spun. A smirk lit Goel’s face as he gestured to a table on his right. Weapons and exotic instruments of torture covered the top. A wagon containing an empty burlap sack was to the left of Goel. The structure was bigger than I had thought. The shed’s door loomed behind him, appearing impossibly far to me, but in reality only ten feet.

Goel followed my gaze and smiled. “Bolted and locked. We’re in a forgotten place far away from the Keep.” He picked up a small black leather whip that had metal spikes on the ends.

The Keep! I pulled some power to me and projected a desperate mental call. Irys.

“How’re the ribs?” I asked, trying to distract him.

He frowned and touched the side of his chest. “That horse is gonna make a tasty stew.” He smacked his lips. “But that’s later.” He raised the whip.

Yelena! Thank fate you’re alive. Where are you? Irys’s worried voice sounded in my mind.

A shed somewhere.

Goel stepped closer to strike me with the whip. I kicked him in the stomach. He jumped back more from surprise than pain.

“Me mistake,” he said, retreating to his table. “Not to worry. I’ll fix.” He picked up a dart, dipping it in a vial of liquid.

The sleeping potion. I thought fast.

I need more information. Is Ferde with you? Irys asked.

Not Ferde. Goel.

Goel?

No time. I’ll explain later.

Goel loaded the dart into a hollow pipe. He aimed. I laughed. The pipe wavered as he squinted at me in confusion.

“I can’t believe it,” I said.

“Believe what?” He lowered the weapon.

“That you’re afraid of me. No, not afraid. Terrified.” I laughed again. “You can’t beat me in a fair fight so you ambush and drug me. And even when I’m chained, you’re still scared.”

“Am not.” He exchanged the pipe for a pair of manacles then dove for my feet.

I struggled, but he outweighed me. In the end, my ankles were manacled together. Goel then staked the six-inch chain between the cuffs to the floor. No more kicking, but I remained awake, and I had another trick. Magic. My mind raced through options.

I could try and freeze the muscles in his body, but I didn’t know how. Goel chose another whip from his table. This one was longer with braided leather and small metal balls tied into the fringes on the end.

His arm blurred. I projected a confusing array of images into his mind.

Goel lost his balance and fell to the ground. “Huh?” He seemed confused.

As he regained his feet, I caught a slight movement behind Goel. The bolt moved and the knob turned. The door burst open with a rush of light. Two figures stood in the doorway. They pointed their swords at Goel’s heart. Ari and Janco.

“Yelena, are you all right?” Ari asked. His eyes never left Goel’s surprised face.

Janco came over and inspected the chains. “Keys?” he asked Goel, who pressed his lips together. “Guess I’ll have to do it the hard way.” Janco pulled his lock picks from his pocket.

My first rush of relief at seeing my friends cooled. This rescue wouldn’t stop Goel from trying again. Even if he was arrested for kidnapping, Goel would harbor his grudge until freed and years from now, I might be in the exact same position. I had to deal with him. He needed to know that he couldn’t win against me.

I shook my head at Janco. “I’ve got the situation under control. Go back to the Keep, I’ll meet you there.”

Janco stared at me in astonished silence. Ari, though, trusted me. “Come on, she doesn’t need our help.” Ari sheathed his sword.

Janco recovered. He flashed me one of his mischievous grins. “I’ll bet you a copper that she’ll be free in five minutes,” he said to Ari.

Ari grunted in amusement. “A silver on ten minutes,” he countered.

“I’ll bet you both a gold coin that she kills him,” Valek said from behind them. They moved aside and he entered, still dressed in his Adviser Ilom disguise. “The only way to take care of your problem. Right, love?”

“No killing,” I said. “I’ll manage.”

“He’s my man. I’ll handle this,” Cahil said from the doorway.

Valek spun, but Cahil just stared at him for a moment before coming inside. “Goel, stand down,” Cahil ordered.

Valek disappeared from sight. The crowded shed seemed to shrink in size and, by this point, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Irys and the other Masters following Cahil. We could all have a festival.

During the conversations and arrivals, Goel’s face had transformed from stunned to horrified and finally settled into stubborn determination. “No,” he said to Cahil.

“Goel, you were right about her. But this isn’t the way to deal with her. Especially not with her two henchmen nearby. Release her.”

“I don’t take orders from you. Everyone else can pretend you’re in charge. I won’t.”

“Are you challenging my authority?” Cahil demanded.

“You don’t have any authority with me,” Goel shot back.

Cahil’s face turned bright red as he sputtered. “How dare—”

“Gentlemen!” I shouted. “You can fight it out later. Everyone leave. Now! My arms are killing me.”

Janco pulled Cahil from the shed. Ari shut the door. Goel stood there blinking in the sudden darkness.

“Where were we?” I prompted.

“You can’t expect me…” He gestured toward the door.

“Forget about them. You have more to worry about in here than outside.”

He sneered. “You’re not really in the position to be boasting.”

“And you don’t fully understand what it’s like to go against a magician.”

The sneer faded from his lips.

“You think I’m just some girl to be taught a lesson. That I should fear you. You’re the one who needs the lesson.” I gathered power to me and reached my awareness out to Goel’s.

The word “magician” had only caused a brief feeling of doubt in Goel’s mind. After all, he thought, if she was a good magician, she wouldn’t have been so easy to catch.

“A momentary lapse,” I said. Since he had no magical power, he couldn’t hear my thoughts, but I might be able to control him. I closed my eyes and projected myself into Goel, taking the chance that if I could do it with Topaz I should be able to do it with a person.

He jumped as if struck by lightning when I entered his mind. Although glad that my transfer worked, being closer to Goel’s slimy thoughts made me wish for Topaz’s clean mind.

When I focused Goel’s eyes on me, I understood why he thought so little of me. My hair hung in messy clumps. The combination of closed eyes, dirt-streaked face and mud covered clothes made me seem pathetic. A helpless figure in need of a bath.

I felt his panic when he realized he had lost control of his body. He could still think, see and feel. I marveled at his physical strength, but I encountered some difficultly moving his body around. The proportions felt strange and balancing his body took a concentrated effort.

He tried to regain control, but I pushed his weak efforts aside. I searched for the key to the manacles and found them in his pack under the table. Then I unlocked and removed the manacles from my body’s feet. Supporting myself with one of Goel’s arms, I unlocked the wrist cuffs. I grabbed my body before it could fall to the ground and lifted it up.

It felt light as a pillow. My body breathed and blood pulsed. I carried it and laid it gently on the ground near the door. Using Goel’s thumb, I raised my left eyelid. Although my body lived, the spark of life was gone. Unnerved I stood and backed away.

When the feeling of utter helplessness overcame Goel, I let him experience that sensation for a long while. Picking up a knife from the table, I cut a shallow line along his arm. I felt his pain from the cut, but it was muted and distant. Resting the tip of the blade on his chest, I wondered if I plunged the knife into his heart, would I kill us both?

An interesting question that would have to be answered at another time. Kicking off his boots, I snapped the manacles around Goel’s ankles then I shortened the chain hanging from the overhead beam before locking his wrists into the cuffs. I savored the combination of fear, discomfort and chagrin that coursed through his mind before I projected myself back toward my own body.

The shed spun for a moment when I opened my eyes. Fatigue coursed through my limbs. I stood in slow motion, but managed a smug smile at Goel’s new predicament. As I headed for the door, I thought I probably wouldn’t have discovered that magical skill working with Irys or the other magicians. And what exactly had I done? Transferred my magic? My will? My soul? I shied away from those disturbing thoughts. Taking control of someone’s body and forcing him to move must be in violation of the Ethical Code. But when Goel kidnapped me he became a criminal. The Ethical Code didn’t apply to him. I almost laughed. I guess I should be grateful Goel attacked me. Now I knew another defensive magical move.

Ari and Janco waited for me in the overgrown field that surrounded the shed. I saw a dilapidated fence and a collapsed barn and guessed we stood on an abandoned farm outside the Citadel. Valek and Cahil hadn’t waited for me.

Ari smiled as Janco slapped a silver coin into his huge hand.

“Your problem?” Ari asked me.

“I left him hanging.”

“What took you so long?” Janco complained.

“I wanted to prove my point. Where’s…ah, Adviser Ilom and Cahil?”

“Why the sudden concern for Ilom?” Janco asked with mock sincerity. “He’s a grown man with surprising abilities.

That stuffy old bore appeared out of nowhere, did a dead perfect impression of Valek’s voice and disappeared as if by magic. The man’s a genius! I should have known he would come along. Valek wouldn’t miss all the fun.”

The smile dropped from Ari’s face. “Valek’s going to get caught. Cahil made a beeline for the Citadel, probably to tell the Council members about Valek.”

“Great disguise, though,” Janco said. “He had us fooled.”

“Cahil already suspected Valek was here,” I said, shivering in the cold morning air. Now he knew for certain. “I’m sure Valek can handle it.” My tired mind, though, couldn’t produce a good solution.

Ari went over to the shed and picked up my backpack from where it leaned against the side. “I thought you might need this.” He handed it to me.

I found my cloak inside. Wrapping the warm garment around me I moved to sling the pack onto my back, but Ari took it from me.

“Let’s go,” Ari said.

He and Janco led me through the fallow fields. We passed an empty farmhouse.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“About two miles east of the Citadel,” Ari said.

I stumbled just at the thought of walking two miles. “How did you find me?”

“We followed your guards last night to make sure they knew what they were doing. By the time we realized they had been hit, you had disappeared,” Ari said.

Janco grinned. “The magicians were frantic. Search parties were sent.” He shook his head as if amazed by the uproar. “We had no idea what they would find in the dark. We just hoped they wouldn’t ruin the trail. Once the sun was up, it took us no time to follow the tracks. Goel used a wagon to wheel you out of the Keep and Citadel.”

I thought of the burlap sack lying in the wagon. Goel must have hidden me in that sack.

“I guess Cahil followed us,” Janco said. Scratching his scar, he added, “Of course, you didn’t want our help. Now I have to go beat up some soldier just to keep my ego intact.”

As we reached the east gate of the Citadel, I spotted a commotion near the guardhouse. A loose horse was giving the guards some trouble. Kiki.

She stopped when we crossed through the gate. Lavender Lady tired. Need ride.

How did you find me?

Follow scent of Strong Man and Rabbit Man.

She referred to Ari and Janco. I apologized to the gate’s guards about Kiki’s disruption. Ari helped me onto her back and gave me my pack.

“We’ll catch up with you later,” Ari promised.

Before Kiki and I headed toward the Keep, I thanked my friends.

“For what? We didn’t do anything,” Janco grumbled.

“For caring enough to follow my guards. And the next time, I might need the help.”

“There better not be a next time,” Ari said, giving me a stern look.

“How touching,” Janco said, pretending to wipe his eyes. “Get going, Yelena. I don’t want you to see me cry.” He faked a sniffle.

“I’m sure your ego can handle it,” I said. “Or will you need to beat up some trainees to feel like a man again?”

“Very funny,” he said.

I waved and asked Kiki to take me home. On the way, I connected to Irys and updated her on what had happened. She promised to send some guards out to arrest Goel.

If I don’t make it to my room, I’ll be asleep in the barn, I said, yawning. I felt her hesitate. Now what?

Your parents arrived this morning.

Oh, no!

Oh, yes. Esau is here with me, but when your mother found out you were missing, she climbed a tree and we can’t convince her to come down. She’s hysterical and won’t listen to us. You’ll have to talk to her.

I sighed. I’m on my way. Where is she?

Perl was in one of the tall oak trees next to the pasture.

Kiki took me to the base of the tree. A handful of orange and brown leaves still clung to the branches. I spotted my mother’s green cloak near the top. I called to Perl, telling her I was fine. “You can come down now,” I said.

“Yelena! Thank fate! Come up here where it’s safe,” she said.

I resigned myself to the fact that getting Perl down would be difficult, and took off my cloak and backpack, dropping them to the ground. Even standing on Kiki’s back, I still had to stretch to reach the lowest branch. My mother’s climbing ability was impressive.

As Kiki grazed, I hauled myself higher, climbing until I reached my mother. I settled on a branch below her, but she appeared next to me in an instant, hugging me tight. When her body started shaking with sobs, I had to grab the tree’s trunk to keep us both from falling.

I waited for her to calm before gently pulling her away. She sat next to me, leaning against my shoulder. Her face was streaked with dirt where her tears had mixed with the dried mud on my clothes. I offered the one clean spot on my shirt, but she shook her head, taking a handkerchief from her pocket. Her dark green cloak had many pockets, and the garment had a slim tailored cut, eliminating the bulky excess of material. It wouldn’t make a good blanket, but it was perfect for keeping warm while traveling through the tree tops.

“Is this one of Nutty’s designs?” I asked her, fingering the cloth.

“Yes. Since I hadn’t left the jungle in fourteen years…” She gave me a rueful smile, “I needed something for the cooler weather.”

“I’m glad you came,” I said.

Her smile fled. A look of terror touched her eyes before she took a few deep breaths. “Your father gave me some Eladine to keep me calm during the trip, and I was doing so well, until…” She put a hand to her neck, grimacing.

“Bad timing,” I agreed. “But I’m fine, see?” I held out an arm. My mistake.

She gasped, staring at the bloody bruises around my wrist. I pulled my sleeve down to cover them.

“They’re just scratches.”

“What happened? And don’t sugarcoat it for me,” she ordered.

I gave her a condensed version with only a slight dusting of sugar. “He won’t be bothering me again.”

“It won’t happen again. You are coming home with us,” she declared.

After this morning, I wanted to agree. “What would I do there?”

“Help your father collect samples or help me make perfumes. The thought of losing you again is too much to bear.”

“But you have to bear it, Mother. I’m not going to run or hide from difficult or dangerous situations. And I’ve made some promises to myself and others. I have to see things through, because if I ran away, I couldn’t live with myself.”

A breeze rustled the leaves, and the sweat on my skin felt like ice. My mother pulled her cloak tight. I could sense her emotions as they twisted into knots around her. She was in a strange place, dealing with the realization that her daughter would willingly put herself in harm’s way for others, and she could lose her again. She struggled with her fear, wanting nothing more than the safety of her family and the familiarity of home.

I had an idea. “Nutty’s cloak reminds me of the jungle,” I said.

She glanced down at the garment. “Really?”

“It’s the same color as the underside of an Ylang-Ylang Leaf. Remember that time when we were caught in a sudden downpour on our way home from the market, and we huddled under a big Ylang-Ylang Leaf?”

“You remembered.” She beamed.

I nodded. “My childhood memories have been unlocked. But I wouldn’t have them now, if I hadn’t taken a risk and followed Irys to the Avibian Plains.”

“You’ve been to the plains.” The horror on her face transformed to awe. “You’re not afraid of anything, are you?”

“During that trip, I could list at least five things I was afraid of.” Especially getting my head chopped off by Moon Man’s scimitar, but I was smart enough not to tell that to my mother.

“Then why did you go?”

“Because we needed information. I couldn’t let my fear stop me from doing what I needed to do.”

She considered my words in silence.

“Your cloak can protect you from more than the weather,” I said. “If you fill the pockets with special items from home, you can surround yourself with the jungle whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed or afraid.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“In fact, I have something you can put into your pocket now that will remind you of me. Come on.” Without waiting to see if she followed, I climbed down. I hung from the lowest branch before dropping to the ground.

As I searched my backpack, I heard a rustling and I looked up in time to see my mother shimming down the tree’s trunk. I found my fire amulet in one of the pack’s pockets. Considering my recent run of troubles, the amulet would be safer with my mother.

“I won this during a time in my life when fear was my constant and only companion.” I handed it to her. It was the first place prize for an acrobatic competition at Ixia’s annual Fire Festival. What followed after was the worst time of my life, but I would have competed for the amulet again, even knowing the outcome.

I handed the amulet to my mother. “This is one of only four items I hold dear. I want you to have it.”

She examined the fire amulet. “What are the other three?”

“My Butterfly and snake.” I pulled out my necklace, and I showed her my bracelet.

“Did someone make those for you?”

“Yes. A friend,” I said before she could ask more.

She raised a slender eyebrow, but only asked, “What’s the last thing?”

I rummaged in my pack while I decided if my mother would be shocked to know I held a weapon dear. Far from being the perfect daughter, I figured she wouldn’t be surprised at all. Handing her my switchblade, I explained what the silver symbols on the handle meant.

“Same friend?” she asked.

I laughed and told her about Ari and Janco. “They’re more like older brothers than friends.”

My mother’s smile felt like the sun coming out after a storm. “Good to know there are people in Ixia who care about you.” She tucked my fire amulet into a pocket of her cloak. “Fire represents strength. I will keep it with me always.”

Hugging me tight for a moment, Perl pulled away and declared, “You’re freezing. Put your cloak on. Let’s get inside.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Esau and Irys waited for us in the Keep’s guest quarters on the west side of the campus. I endured a bone-crushing hug from my father, but had to decline an invitation to dinner with my parents. My desire for a bath and sleep overrode my hunger. I had to promise to spend most of the next day with them before they allowed me to leave.

Irys accompanied me to the bathhouse. Dark smudges lined her eyes and she looked as tired as I felt. She seemed in a contemplative mood.

“Did you use magic on your mother?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“She seemed at peace. Perhaps you did it instinctively.”

“But that’s not good. I should have complete control. Right?”

“I’m beginning to think that not all the rules apply to you, Yelena. Perhaps it was your upbringing or the fact that you started controlling your magic at an older age that has made your powers develop in an unusual way. Not to worry, though,” she added when she saw my expression. “I believe it will be to your benefit.”

Irys and I parted at the baths. After a long hot soak, I dragged myself to my rooms. My last thought before drifting off to sleep was to marvel over the fact that Irys had trusted me enough not to assign more guards to me.

It seemed a mere moment that I had sunk into a dreamless slumber when Irys’s mental call woke me. I squinted in the bright sunlight, trying to orient myself.

What time? I asked her.

Midmorning, Irys said.

Morning? That meant I had been asleep since yesterday afternoon. Why did you wake me?

An emergency Council session has been called, and your presence is required.

Emergency session?

Goel was murdered, and Cahil is claiming Adviser Ilom is Valek in disguise.

28

GOEL MURDERED? VALEK CAUGHT? My groggy mind couldn’t quite understand Irys’s comment and her attention pulled away before I could question her. I changed as fast as I could and ran toward the Council Hall.

Did Valek kill Goel? And if Valek really was in custody, he just gave the Sitians one more reason to execute him. Should I act surprised by Valek’s presence or admit I knew about him? Would I be considered an accomplice to Goel’s murder? Perhaps they suspected me. I only told Irys where to find him; I hadn’t mentioned the others to her.

Questions without answers swirled in my mind. I paused before the steps to the Council Hall, smoothed my braid, and adjusted my clothes. I wore one of the new shirts and skirt/pants that Nutty had sewn for me. Glancing at my surroundings, I checked to make sure no one had followed me. Irys trusted me to take care of myself. I couldn’t let her down.

The Council’s members, four Master Magicians, a handful of the Keep’s guards, and Cahil had assembled in the great hall. The noise of their various arguments reached deafening levels, and I spotted Cahil gesturing wildly to the Sandseed’s Councilman. Cahil’s flushed face contorted in anger as he replied.

Roze Featherstone, First Magician pounded a gavel to bring order to the meeting. Conversations ceased as the Councilors took their seats. The decorations from the greeting ceremony had been removed, and a U-shaped table had been brought in. Roze and the other three Magicians sat at the bend, while the clan Elders sat along the straight sides. Six on one side, five on the other with Cahil taking the sixth seat. A wooden podium had been placed in the middle of the U. I stood with the Captain of the guard and his men near the side wall, hoping to blend in with the white marble.

“Let us address the matter of Lieutenant Goel Ixia,” ordered Roze.

I glanced at Irys in surprise.

All the northern refugees are given Ixia as their clan name, Irys explained in my mind. Cahil is considered their clan leader. It is an honorary clan and title. He has no lands and no power to vote in the Council.

That explained Cahil’s resentment toward the Council and his continuing frustration of not getting their support for his campaign against the Commander.

“Lieutenant Ixia was found dead in a fallow field east of the Citadel in Featherstone Clan lands,” Roze recited. “The healers have determined that he was killed with a sword thrust through his heart.”

Murmurs rippled through the Council members. Roze stopped them with a cold stare. “The weapon was not found at the scene, and a search of the surrounding fields is currently in progress. According to Fourth Magician, Yelena Liana Zaltana was the last person to see him alive. I call her to the witness stand.”

Sixteen pair of eyes turned toward me. Hostile, concerned and worried expressions peppered the group.

Don’t worry, Irys said. Tell them what happened.

I walked to the podium, guessing that was the witness stand.

“Explain yourself,” Roze demanded.

I told them about the kidnapping and my escape. A collective gasp sounded when I explained about taking control of Goel’s body. Whispers about the Ethical Code started to spread.

Irys stood and said, “There is nothing illegal about using magic to defend yourself. In fact, she should be commended for extracting herself without harming Goel.”

The Council members asked an endless amount of questions about Goel’s motives. Only after the guards that had been assigned to protect me confirmed they had been drugged did the Council run out of inquiries.

“You left Goel chained in the shed, and that was the last time you saw him?” Roze asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“She’s telling the truth.” By Roze’s sour expression, I knew that statement had been hard for her to say. “The investigation into Goel’s murder will continue. Yelena, you may sit down.” Roze gestured to a bench located behind her and the other Master Magicians. “That leaves us with the other matter. I call Cahil Ixia to the witness stand.”

As I moved toward the bench, I passed Cahil. His blue eyes held a hard determination and he refused to meet my gaze. I sat on the edge of the wooden bench, and, even though I braced myself for his accusations, Cahil’s words made my heart squeeze with fear.

“—and compounding Valek’s deception is the fact that his soul mate and master spy is Yelena Zaltana.”

The room erupted with a cacophony of voices. Roze pounded her gavel, but no one listened. I felt the force of her magic when she ordered everyone silent. She held them quiet for only a moment, but it was enough to get her point across.

“Cahil, where is your evidence?” Roze asked.

He motioned to one of the Keep’s guards. The guard opened a door in the back wall and Captain Marrok and four of Cahil’s men entered the hall, dragging Adviser Ilom with them. Ilom’s arms were manacled behind his back and the four guards had their swords pointed at him. Ambassador Signe and a handful of Ixian soldiers followed the grim procession.

I strained to catch Valek’s eye, but he looked at the Council members with an annoyed frown.

Ambassador Signe was the first to speak. “I demand an explanation. This is an act of war.”

“Cahil, I told you to release the Adviser until this matter was settled,” Roze said. Fury flared in her amber eyes.

“And let him escape? No. Better to bring him here and unmask him in front of everyone.” Cahil strode to Ilom and yanked on his hair.

I cringed, but Ilom’s head jerked down as he cried out in pain. Undaunted, Cahil pulled Ilom’s nose then clawed at the flesh under his chin. Ilom yelped and blood welled from the scratches on his neck. Cahil stepped back astounded. He reached toward Ilom’s face again, but Marrok grabbed him and held him. Cahil’s mouth hung open with astonishment.

“Release the Adviser,” Roze ordered.

Ilom’s manacles were removed as Cahil, his face red with rage, and his men were escorted from the room. The session ended and Roze rushed to make amends and apologize to the Ambassador and Ilom.

I stayed on the bench, watching as Signe’s anger and Ilom’s pout transformed into more agreeable expressions by Roze’s words. I was afraid to call attention to myself, hoping no one would remember Cahil’s other accusations about me.

Cahil’s shock over Ilom had matched my own. Even knowing his tricks, Valek continued to surprise me. I scanned the Ixian guards, and, sure enough, one blue-eyed soldier looked mighty pleased with himself. Ilom probably dressed as a guard when Valek disguised himself as the Adviser, and they probably switched places when Valek needed to sneak around Sitia.

Eventually, the Council members and Ixians began to leave. Irys joined me on the bench.

Tell Valek to leave, Irys said. The danger is too great.

You know.

Of course. I expected him to be with the delegation.

It doesn’t bother you that he’s here. That he might be spying on Sitia.

He’s here for you. And I’m glad you had some time together.

But what if he killed Goel?

Goel was a danger to you. While I would have preferred to arrest him, I’m not upset by his demise.

“Go get something to eat. You look a little pale,” Irys said.

“That’s just great. I went from having none to having two mother hens.”

Irys laughed. “Some people just need the extra help.” She patted my knee and went in search of Bain.

Before I could leave, though, I saw Bavol Zaltana heading toward me. I waited for him.

“Ambassador Signe requests a meeting with you,” Bavol said.

“When?”

“Now.”

Bavol led me out of the great hall. “The Ambassador has been assigned some offices so she can conduct business while a guest here,” Bavol explained as we walked through the Council Hall.

The entire Sitian government was housed in the vast building. Offices and meeting rooms hummed with the daily tasks of running a government. An underground record room stored all the official documents, although the local records remained at each clan’s capitol.

I wondered about the Sandseed’s moving capitol. Did they haul their records with them as they traveled throughout the plains? Remembering Irys’s lecture about the Sandseeds, I realized they kept a verbal record, telling history through the Story Weavers. An image of Moon Man painted blue and sitting in the Council’s underground room caused me to smile.

Bavol gave me a questioning glance.

“I was thinking of the record room,” I said. “Just trying to imagine how the Sandseed Clan reports information to the Council.”

Bavol grinned. “They have always been difficult. We indulge their…unusual ways. Twice a year, a Story Weaver comes to the Council and recites the clan’s events to a scribe. It works, and keeps peace in our land. Here we are.” Bavol gestured to an open door. “We will talk again later.” Bavol dipped his head and shoulders in a half bow and left.

The invitation had not included Bavol. I walked into a receiving area. Adviser Ilom sat behind a plain desk. The scratches on his neck had stopped bleeding. Two soldiers guarded a closed door.

Ilom stood and knocked on the door. I heard a faint voice, and Ilom turned the knob. “She’s here,” he said, then pushed the door wider and gestured me inside.

I entered Ambassador Signe’s office, noting the simple functional furniture and lack of decorations. Guards stood behind her, but she dismissed them. None of the soldiers had been Valek, and I wondered where he had gotten to. Ari and Janco were probably off-duty.

“You caused a considerable stir last night,” Signe said when we were alone.

Her powerful eyes scanned me. I marveled at her appearance. She had the same delicate features as the Commander, yet the long hair and the thin lines of kohl around her eyes transformed his face into her ageless beauty.

“I hope your sleep wasn’t interrupted,” I said, sticking to a diplomatic approach.

She waved away comment. “We’re alone. You may speak freely.”

I shook my head. “Master Magicians have excellent hearing.” I thought about Roze, she would consider eavesdropping on the Ambassador to be her patriotic duty.

Signe nodded in understanding. “Seems the Wannabe King has gotten hold of some wrong information. I wonder how that happened.”

“A miscommunication between several parties.”

“There will be no more false accusations?” Signe asked.

Her gaze pierced me as if she held a knife to my throat. She wondered at my ability to keep her disguise a secret.

“No.” I showed her my palm, pointing to the scar she had made when I promised not to reveal the Commander’s secret to anyone. Not even to Valek.

That thought reminded me of Irys’s suggestion that Valek leave Sitia. I pulled my Butterfly pendant out. “Some rumors tend to smolder, and it would be best to make certain there is no fuel left to ignite another fire.”

Signe had to know about Valek. “I will take that under advisement. However, I had another matter to discuss with you.” Signe pulled a sheet of parchment from her black leather briefcase. She rolled it up, and held it in her hand.

“The Commander has sent a message for you. He has thought in depth about your last conversation with him. He decided that the advice presented was valid and would like to thank you for the suggestions.” Signe handed me the paper roll.

“An invitation to come visit us when your magical training is complete. We are planning on returning to Ixia in a week’s time,” she said. “Your response is required before we leave.”

A dismissal. I bowed to the Ambassador and left her office. I puzzled over her words as I headed toward the Keep. The Commander had signed an order of execution, visiting Ixia would be suicide.

I waited until I had a warm fire lit in my rooms before unrolling the Commander’s message. Staring at the dancing flames, I contemplated Commander Ambrose’s offer. I held the order for my execution in my hands. But tossing it into the fire would not be a simple act. A brief note had been written on the document.

Prove my loyalties to Ixia and the order would be nullified. Show the benefits of having a magician working for Ixia to the Ixian generals and an adviser’s position would be mine. Do these things and I could return to Ixia. Return to my friends. Return to Valek.

Without knowing it, Cahil had seen my possible future when he had called me a master spy at the Council’s session.

29

I GAZED AT THE FIRE AS MY conflicting emotions, my conflicting loyalties and my conflicting desires all burned and danced in my chest, mimicking the flames. Coming no closer to a decision, I hid the execution order in my backpack. It might be better to think about it later.

Remembering my promise to my parents, I headed toward the dining hall, hoping I would find them eating lunch. Along the way, I encountered Dax.

“Yelena,” he said, falling in step with me. “Haven’t seen you in days.”

“I’m sure you’re just dying to tell me all the campus gossip about me. Right?”

“I do have a life. Maybe I’ve been too busy to listen to rumors,” he huffed, pretending to have hurt feelings.

I looked at him.

He sighed. “Okay, you win. I’m bored out of my skull. Second Magician is busy playing detective, and Gelsi is neck-deep in some project and I never see her anymore.” Dax paused dramatically. “My life is so boring that I have to live vicariously through your adventures.”

“And since the rumors are so accurate—”

“Your adventures have turned into legends.” He swept his arms wide, laughing. “So where are you off to now? Going to slay a dragon? Can I tag along as your lowly squire? I’ll polish your staff of power every night with my shirt. I promise.”

“I’m glad my problems are keeping you entertained,” I said with some sarcasm. “I’m searching for my…ah, for the Tree King and his Queen. We’re going to plan our attack against the evil Tree Varmints who have assembled an invisible army in the Keep.”

Dax’s eyes lit up. “I heard about the Tree Queen’s adventures this morning.”

The game soured. I didn’t want to hear the students’ gossip about my mother. Before Dax could elaborate, I invited him to tag along.

I found my parents in the dining hall and we joined them. While we ate, Dax’s presence worked to my advantage. The topic of conversation stayed on school and horses and mundane matters, giving my parents no chance to question me about the Council session. And when my mother offered to distill a special cologne for Dax, I knew she was glad I had found a Sitian friend.

After saying goodbye to Dax, I went to the guest quarters with my parents. As Perl brewed some tea in the small kitchen, I asked Esau about the Curare. Irys had told him about the drug when she feared Ferde had kidnapped me.

He ran a calloused hand over his face. “I never thought it would be used like that,” he said, shaking his head. “When I discover something new, I always experiment with it until I know all the side effects and know how the substance could be used or abused. Then I weigh the good against the bad. Some discoveries never see the light of day, but for others, even though they might not be perfect, the benefits outweigh the risks.”

Esau stopped speaking when Perl entered the room carrying a tray of tea. The warning in my father’s eyes told me that my mother didn’t know about Ferde’s gruesome use of the Curare.

She served the tea and sat close to me on the couch. She had worn her cloak during lunch, but had removed it when we entered their suite.

“What happened at the Council’s session?” she asked me.

I gave them a watered-down version of Cahil’s accusations against Adviser Ilom. Perl’s hand flew to her neck when I mentioned Valek’s name, but she relaxed when I told her Cahil had been proven wrong. Neglecting to mention Cahil’s claims about my involvement with Valek, I informed them about Goel’s murder.

“Good,” Perl said. “Saves me the effort of cursing him.”

“Mother!” I was astonished. “Can you do that?”

“Perfumes and scents are not the only things I can concoct.”

I looked at Esau. He nodded his head. “Good thing Reyad and Mogkan were already dead. Your mother has quite the imagination when she’s angry.”

I wondered what other surprises I would discover about my parents. Changing the subject, I asked about their journey to the Keep and about the Zaltana family, spending the day with them as promised.

When the hour had grown late, Esau offered to escort me to my rooms. At first I declined. I hadn’t been assigned guards since the episode with Goel. When he insisted and when Perl frowned, I remembered her comment about curses and not wanting to be a target of her ire, I agreed.

The campus atmosphere hung silent and empty. Moonlight glistened off the ice-coated trees. Only four more days until the full moon. My hand found Valek’s snake and I twisted the bracelet around my arm.

When we were halfway to my rooms Esau said, “I need to tell you another thing about Curare.”

“There’s more?”

He nodded. “The stinging nettle plant was the reason I sent the shipment of Curare to the Sandseeds before I finished all my experiments on the drug. The plant grows in the Avibian Plains and the sting causes unbearable pain for many days. It’s usually the children who wander into a patch without realizing it. In low doses, Curare is excellent for numbing the wound. It had never occurred to me that someone would use high doses of Curare to paralyze the entire body.” Esau frowned, running a hand through his shoulder length gray hair. “Later I discovered another side effect that seemed minor at the time. But now…” Esau stopped and turned to me. “At high doses the Curare will also paralyze a person’s magical abilities.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. That meant Curare could render even a Master Magician completely helpless. Tomorrow night was the time of the secret exchange. Since I had taken over Goel’s body with my magic, I planned to take over Ferde’s, believing that, even if I was incapacitated by the drug, I could still use my magic. It now seemed imperative that I avoid getting shot with Curare.

My father must have seen the horror in my eyes. “There is an antidote of sorts,” he said.

“Antidote?”

“Not a complete reversal, but it does free the magic and return some feeling, although it creates some new problems.” Esau shook his head in frustration. “I haven’t been able to experiment with it fully.”

“What is it?”

“Theobroma.”

That explained the new problem. Eating the brown sweet would open my mind to magical influences. My mental defenses would not work against another magician, even one weaker than me.

“How much Theobroma would I need?” I asked my father.

“A lot. Though, I could concentrate it,” he mused.

A chill wind blew through me, shivering I pulled my cloak tighter as we continued our walk.

“It wouldn’t taste as good, but it would be a smaller quantity,” Esau said.

“Can you do it by tomorrow afternoon?” I asked.

He stared at me. A worried concern filled his kind eyes.

“Are you going to do something that I shouldn’t tell your mother about?”

“Yes.”

“Important?”

“Very.”

My father considered my request. When we arrived at my rooms, he gave me a hug. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I have a plan.”

“Yelena, you managed to find your way home despite the odds. I’ll trust that you’ll prevail again. You’ll have the antidote by tomorrow noon.”

He stood in my doorway like a protective bear while I searched inside. Satisfied that I was safe, he said good-night and headed back to the guest quarters.

I lay in bed and mulled over the information Esau had given me. When my shutters swung wide, I sat up, grabbing my switchblade from under the pillow. Valek climbed through the window with a lithe grace, dropping without a sound onto my bed. He locked the shutters then joined me.

“You need to leave. Too many people know you’re here,” I said.

“Not until we find the killer. And besides, the Commander ordered me to protect the Ambassador. I would be remiss in my duties if I left.”

“What if she ordered you home?” I turned so I could see his face.

“The Commander’s orders overrule all others.”

“Valek, did you—”

He stopped my question with a kiss. I needed to discuss many things with him. Goel’s death and the Commander’s offer. But once his body molded to mine and his musky scent reached my nose all thoughts of murder and intrigue evaporated. I pulled at his shirt. He smiled with delight. Our time together was limited and I didn’t want to waste the night on words.

When I woke in the semidarkness of sunrise, Valek was gone. But I felt energized. My rendezvous with Ferde was scheduled for midnight so I reviewed the plan as I went through my day.

Irys had wanted me to try to move objects again with my magic for my morning lesson. I had yet to manage that skill. But I asked if we could work on strengthening my mental defenses. If I had to resort to using Esau’s antidote, I wanted to be able to produce a strong enough barrier that might block his magic even while under the influence of the Theobroma.

Before dismissing me for the day, Irys asked, “Are you still feeling tired from your encounter with Goel?”

“A little. Why?”

She gave me an ironic smile. “You’ve been pestering me about the search for Opal every day for the last week. Yet no questions today.”

“I assumed you would tell me any news.”

“We’ve reached a milestone!” Irys declared. “You’re learning to trust us.” Then the humor in her eyes dulled. “No news. We don’t think they are in the Citadel or the plains so now we’re widening the search area.”

Feelings of guilt squeezed my chest as I hurried to find my father. I had wanted to work with Irys and the others, but now I planned to meet Ferde with just Valek backing me up. Granted Valek equaled four armed men, but I hadn’t confided our plans to her. A true Sitian would present the information to the Council.

But why didn’t I trust Irys? Because she wouldn’t let me go to the rendezvous. The danger to Sitia was too great, but trying to ambush Ferde wouldn’t work without me there. Irys believed they would find him eventually and sacrificing Opal was a small price to pay for Sitia. I believed that risking all was the only way to stop him. Knowing the risks, and trying to minimize them would be the key.

Irys didn’t believe in my abilities to capture Ferde, but I had kept Roze, the most powerful magician in Sitia, from extracting my innermost thoughts, I had healed Tula’s body and found her consciousness, I had taken over Goel’s body and would soon have an antidote to Curare.

Trust needed to go both ways. Loyalty, too. Did I feel any loyalty? To Irys, yes. But to Sitia? I couldn’t say.

Even if we succeeded in rescuing Opal and capturing Ferde, Irys would cease my lessons. That grim thought led me to contemplate my future and the Commander’s offer.

Irys would sever our relationship, and I would have no obligations to Sitia. I could tell the Commander about Cahil and his plans to build an army to overthrow Ixia. Cahil, that weasel, had no qualms about telling the Council of my connection with Valek.

My father waited for me outside the guest quarters. He had concentrated the Theobroma into a pill the same size and shape as a robin’s egg.

“I coated it with a gelatin that will keep it from melting,” Esau explained.

“Melting?”

“How would you eat it if you’re frozen with Curare?” When my eyes widened in sudden understanding, he said, “You can hold this pill between your teeth. If you’re pricked with the Curare just bite down on it and try and swallow as much as you can before your jaw muscles become paralyzed. Hopefully the rest will melt and slide down your throat.”

Before learning about this antidote my main goal had been to not get hit with Curare at all. If I willingly went to Ferde, he shouldn’t need to use it. Or so I’d hope. Esau’s pill made me even more confident about the rendezvous tonight, and he had given me an idea. I borrowed a few other items from my father.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon practicing self-defense with Zitora, and after dinner with my parents I went to the barn. Everything about the day seemed odd as if I did things for the last time. Perhaps the feeling was due to the fact that my life would be different after tonight.

Kiki sensed my mood. Lavender Lady sad.

A little. I led Kiki from her stall and groomed her. Usually I talked to her, but tonight I worked in silence.

I go with Lavender Lady.

Surprised, I stopped brushing. I had thought my connection with Kiki only involved emotions and simple communication. She discerned my feelings, and possessed certain instincts like when I had been threatened by Goel, but until now I had believed she didn’t know why.

It would be suspicious if I take you.

Take me to smelling distance. Lavender Lady needs me.

I pondered her words as I put the grooming brushes away. Cahil hadn’t come to the barn for my lesson. I wasn’t surprised. Guess I would practice on my own. But how to get onto Kiki’s back without a saddle or a boost up?

Grab mane. Hop. Pull.

Kiki, you’re full of advice tonight.

Smart, she agreed.

As we rode around the pasture, I realized the value of her offer. I would take her along and let her graze in the plains. The exchange site was set at the only location in the plains that I knew, Blood Rock. My skin crawled when I contemplated how Ferde had gotten that information.

Ferde’s image and thoughts still frequented my nightmares, and I wondered if I had inadvertently formed a mental connection with his mind. His desire to possess me haunted my dreams. I no longer ran from the snakes. Instead, I waited for their tight embrace, welcoming the oblivion of their bites. My dream actions became as disturbing as Ferde’s.

Kiki switched to a trot, jarring me from my thoughts. I concentrated on maintaining my balance. When my legs and back began to ache, she stopped.

After giving Kiki a quick rubdown, I led her back in her stall. See you later, I said, heading toward my rooms to prepare for the exchange. My confidence soured to nervousness as the darkness advanced over the sky.

Trust, Kiki said. Trust is peppermints.

I laughed. Kiki viewed the world through her stomach. Peppermints were good; therefore, trusting another was also good.

Valek waited for me in my rooms. His stiff expression resembled a metal mask. A cold sheen covered his eyes; his killer’s gaze.

“Here.” He handed me a black turtleneck shirt and black pants. “They’re made of a special fabric that will protect you from airborne darts from a blow gun, but won’t stop a dart if you get jabbed by one.”

“These are great,” I said, thanking him. At least I wouldn’t be surprised, and hopefully, once Ferde was close enough to jab me, I would have the upper hand.

The new clothes hung on my small frame. I rolled up the sleeves and added a belt to keep the pants from falling down.

A brief smile touched Valek’s lips. “They were mine. I’m not the best seamstress.”

I packed my backpack with care, taking only critical supplies, which included the Theobroma, the items Esau gave me, my grapple and rope, an apple and my bow. Ferde hadn’t specified to come unarmed. My lock picks went into my hair, and I strapped my switchblade onto my thigh through the hole cut into my pant’s pocket. Valek had thought ahead. He might not be the best with a needle and thread, but he knew the art of combat like no other.

We reviewed our plan and I told him about Kiki.

“Sneaking through both the Keep’s and Citadel’s gates without a large animal is hard enough, love,” Valek said.

“I’ll manage. Trust me.”

He gave me a flat stare, showing no emotion.

“I’ll take Kiki out to the plains and give you time to get through the Citadel’s gate before heading toward the meeting site,” I said. “Once Opal is out of harm’s way and Ferde is visible, that’s the sign to move in.”

Valek nodded. “Count on it.”

I put on my cloak and left. Four hours remained until midnight. A few people moved about the campus. The torches along the walkways had been lit and students hurried through the cool night air, heading to an evening class or to meet up with friends. I was a stranger among them. A shadow, watching and yearning to join them, wishing that my worries only focused on studying for one of Bain Bloodgood’s history quizzes.

Kiki waited for me in her stall. I opened the door and let her out. Getting onto her back with a cloak and loaded backpack became an impossible task. I pulled a step stool over and used it.

Need practice, Kiki said. No stool in wild.

Later, I agreed.

Kiki glanced back at Irys’s tower as we started toward the Keep’s gate. Magic Lady.

The guilt I had suppressed about not telling Irys about the exchange threatened to break free. She won’t be happy.

Kicking mad. Give Magic Lady peppermints.

I laughed, thinking I would need more than peppermints to repair the damage.

Peppermints sweet on both sides, Kiki said.

Cryptic horse advice? Are you sure Moon Man isn’t your father?

Moon Man smart.

I pondered her words, trying to decipher the true meaning. Before we reached the Keep’s gate, I pulled a magic thread to me and projected my awareness. Two guards watched the gate. Bored, one guard thought of the end of his shift with longing; the other considered what he would eat for a late dinner. A magician dozed on a stool. I sent the magician into a deeper slumber, and using the guard’s desires, I encouraged them to focus on something other than the horse and rider passing beneath the gate. As one soldier scanned the sky to see how far the South Star had moved, the other rummaged around the guardhouse looking for something to eat. Both failed to notice us and we soon passed out of sight.

Kiki walked quietly through the Citadel. No farrier would go near a sandseed horse, the breed’s strong disdain for metal shoes was well-known. Four guards watched the Citadel’s gates. Once again, I distracted the guards as we crossed. When we were out of sight of the gate, Kiki broke into a gallop and we headed into the Avibian Plains. When we could no longer see the road or the Citadel, Kiki slowed to a walk.

My thoughts returned to Kiki’s words about peppermints. For the plan to work tonight, we each had to do our part. Both sides needed to be sweet. She had also claimed trust equaled peppermints. Did she refer to Irys instead of Valek?

The answer bloomed in my mind. I didn’t know whether to feel smart for figuring out Kiki’s advice, or feel like a simpleton for having a horse tell me the right thing to do.

Irys, I called in my mind.

Yelena? What’s the matter?

I took a deep breath, steadied my nerves, and told her my plans. Silence, long and empty, followed my confession.

You’ll die, she finally said. You’re no longer my student. I’ll link with the other Master Magicians and we will stop you before you get to him.

I expected her response. Her anger and immediate censure were the reasons I hadn’t wanted to tell her about the exchange. Irys, you told me I would die before. Remember when we first met in Ixia’s Snake Forest?

She hesitated. Yes.

I was in an impossible position. My magical powers were uncontrolled, you were threatening to kill me and I had been poisoned by Valek. Each course of action from that point seemed to lead to my eventual death. But I asked you to give me some time, and you did. You hardly knew me, yet you trusted me enough to let me figure a way out. I might not know the ways of Sitia, but I’m an old hand at dealing with impossible situations. Think about that before you call the others.

Another long painful silence. I withdrew my connection to Irys, needing to focus my attention on tonight’s task. Kiki stopped within a mile of Blood Rock. I sensed the Sandseed’s subtle magic. The protection lacked the strength of the one that covered their camp, but it resembled a thin web, waiting to catch its prey unaware. A magician with the proper magical defense in place could avoid detection by the Sandseeds, but if the clan intensified their power, they would then sense the magician’s presence. Their magic would attack the interloper. I breathed a small sigh of relief, knowing Valek’s immunity would make him undetectable.

I slid off Kiki’s back. Stay out of sight, I told her.

Stay in wind. Keep smell strong, Kiki instructed.

I hid in the tall grass, giving Valek time to catch up. Kiki had reached this point in an hour, but it would take him an extra hour to get into position. When I felt I had waited long enough, I started walking toward Blood Rock, trusting that Valek would approach the exchange site from the opposite direction.

Rabbit, Kiki said. Good.

I smiled. She must have flushed a bunny from its burrow. The moon’s bright light shone on the long stalks of grass. A slight breeze blew and I watched as my moon’s shadow skimmed over the rippling surface.

Irys’s voice reached my mind. You’re on your own. Then her mental connection with me severed, destroying our student mentor link. My head throbbed with the sudden emptiness.

My heart squeezed out little spikes of panic. I calmed my nerves with the reminder that both Valek and Kiki trailed me.

When I drew closer to the meeting point, I stopped and took off my cloak. I rolled the garment up and hid it in a clump of tall grass. Pulling Esau’s Theobroma pill from my pack, I placed it between my back teeth. My mouth felt awkward, and I hoped I didn’t accidentally bite into the pill.

I continued onward. The dark shape of the rock filled the land before me. Rays of moonlight filtered through the clouds as I peered into the semidarkness, searching for some sign of Ferde and Opal.

Relief poured through my body when I saw Opal step out from behind Blood Rock. She hurried toward me, and only when she left the shadows could I see the terror on her face. Her eyes looked swollen; her pale skin blotchy from crying. I scanned the area with my magic, feeling for Ferde as my gaze hunted for him.

Opal threw herself into my arms, sobbing. Too easy. Wouldn’t he want my promise to go with him before releasing her? The girl hugged me so tight she pinched my skin. Ferde still didn’t appear. I pulled her away, planning to guide her back to the Citadel.

“I’m so sorry, Yelena,” she cried and ran away.

I spun around, expecting Ferde to be standing there gloating. No one. Confused, I moved to follow Opal but my feet would not obey me. Stumbling, I fell as my body lost all sensation.

30

I LAY ON THE GROUND AS THE paralysis swept through my body with amazing speed. I had only a second to realize that I’d been hit with Curare before the drug froze all my muscles. Only a second to bite down on the Theobroma pill before my jaw seized, swallowing just a drop of the antidote.

Lying on my side, I saw Opal in the gray moonlight, running toward the Citadel. My helpless position was the direct result of my appalling overconfidence. By focusing on the danger from Ferde either from his magic or from the Curare, I didn’t prepare for an attack by Opal. She had jabbed me, apologized and run off.

A muted fear pulsed in my body. The Curare seemed to dull my emotions as well as my magic. I felt as if I wore a heavy wet woolen cap around my head.

Behind me, I heard the slight crunch of footsteps coming closer. I waited for Valek. Would he pounce when Ferde drew closer to me?

The footsteps stopped and my view changed. Without feeling anything, I was pulled over onto my back. My head spun for a moment before I could focus on the night sky. I couldn’t move my gaze, but I could still blink. I couldn’t speak, yet I could breathe. I couldn’t move my mouth or tongue, but I could swallow. Odd.

When a face entered my view, I remembered to be scared again. Until surprise eclipsed my fear for a moment. A woman with long hair peered down at me. She wore a robe and I could see faint lines had been drawn or tattooed on her neck. When she flaunted a knife and brought the metal tip close to my eyes, the air suddenly seemed thick and hard to draw into my straining lungs.

“Should I kill you now?” she asked. Her accent sounded familiar. She cocked her head to the side in amusement. “No comment? Not to worry. I won’t kill you now. Not when you won’t feel any pain. You need to suffer greatly before I’ll end your pain for good.”

The woman stood and walked away. I searched my memory. Did I know her? Why would she want to kill me? Perhaps she worked with Ferde. Her language matched his, but without the lilt.

Where was Valek? He should have witnessed my predicament.

I heard a rubbing sound and a thump then a strange disorientation made me realize that the woman dragged me. My world tilted and straightened. She brandished a rope, and I guessed by the brief glimpses and sounds that she had pulled me onto a cart and was tying me to it. She jumped off, and, after a moment, I heard her call to a horse.

The creaking of the wheels and steady clomping of the horse were the only indication that we moved. From the swish and whack of grass, I guessed we were headed deeper into the Avibian Plains. Where was Valek?

I worried and waited and even slept. Every time some of the melting Theobroma reached the back of my throat, I swallowed. Would I get enough to counteract the Curare? By the time the woman stopped, a pale sheen of dawn had wedged into the night sky. Feeling began to return to my limbs. I moved my tongue, trying to swallow more of the Theobroma.

Pain flared in my wrists and ankles. My hands and feet were stiff and cold. I had been tied spread eagle on the hard cart. My ability to connect with the power source started to wake when the woman climbed onto the cart. My thoughts scattered when I saw her holding a long thin needle. I banished the fear and drew power to me.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she declared then jabbed me with the needle. “We need to reach the Void before I let you feel. Then you can feel cold steel slicing into your skin.”

I thought that this would be an excellent time for Valek to arrive. But, when he failed to appear, I said, “Who…” before the drug numbed all my muscles.

“You don’t know me, but you knew my brother very well. Don’t worry; you’ll know the reason for your suffering soon enough.” She hopped off the cart and the familiar sounds of movement started again.

Anytime now Valek, I thought. But as the sun progressed through the sky, my hopes for a rescue faded. Something must have happened to keep Valek from following me. Perhaps Irys’s message last night about being alone had been a warning.

Various horrible scenarios about Valek played in my mind. To distract myself, I wondered about Kiki. Was she near? Would she follow my scent? With my magic ability paralyzed, would she know I needed her help?

The sun hovered above the horizon when the cart stopped again. A burning sensation in my fingertips meant the Curare started to wear off. Soon enough cramps, pain, and cold air wracked my body. I shivered and gulped the rest of Esau’s antidote, preparing for another jab. But it didn’t come.

Instead, the woman climbed onto the cart and stood over me. She spread her arms wide. “Welcome to the Void. Or in your case, welcome to hell.”

In the fading light, I saw her gray eyes clearly. The strong features of her face reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t think. My head ached and my mind felt dull. I reached for a thread of power, but found dead air. Nothing.

A smug smile spread on the woman’s lips. “This is one of the few places in Sitia where there is a hole in the blanket of power. No power means no magic.”

“Where are we?” I asked. My voice sounded rough.

“The Daviian Plateau.”

“Who are you?”

All humor dropped from the woman’s face. She appeared to be around thirty years old. Her black hair reached past her waist. She rolled the sleeves up on her sand-colored cloak, revealing the purple animal tattoos that covered her arms.

“You haven’t figured it out? Have you killed that many men?”

“Four men, but I’m not averse to killing a woman.” I gave her a pointed stare.

“You’re really not in the position to be bragging or boasting.” She pulled her knife from a pocket of her cloak.

I thought quick. Of the four, Reyad was the only one I knew well, the others I had killed in self-defense. I didn’t even know their names.

“Still don’t know?” She moved closer to me.

“No.”

Rage flamed in her gray eyes. That expression jolted my memory. Mogkan. The magician that had kidnapped me and tried to rob me of my soul. He was known as Kangom in Sitia.

“Kangom deserved to die,” I said. Valek had made the killing blow, but Irys and I had first caught the magician in a web of magical power. I had not included him in my count, but I admitted being responsible for his death.

Fury twisted the woman’s expression. She drove her knife into my right forearm, and then pulled it out just as fast. Pain exploded up my arm. I screamed.

“Who am I?” she asked.

My arm burned, but I met her gaze. “You’re Kangom’s sister.”

She nodded. “My name’s Alea Daviian.”

That was not one of the clan names.

She understood my confusion and said, “I used to be a Sandseed.” She spat the clan name out. “They’re stuck in the past. We are more powerful than the rest of Sitia, yet the Sandseeds are content to wander the plains, dream and weave stories. My brother had a vision on how we could rule Sitia.”

“But he was helping Brazell to take over Ixia.” I found it hard to follow her logic when my blood poured from the stab wound.

“A first step. Gain control of the northern armies then attack Sitia. But you ruined that, didn’t you?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Alea sliced her knife along my left arm, drawing a line from my shoulder to my wrist. “You’ll learn to regret that decision before I cut your throat just like you did to my brother.”

Pain coursed through my arms, but a strange annoyance that she had ruined Valek’s special shirt tugged at my mind. Alea raised the knife again, aiming for my face. I thought fast.

“Are you living in the plateau?” I asked.

“Yes. We broke from the Sandseeds and declared a new clan. The Daviians will conquer Sitia. We will no longer have to steal to survive.”

“How?”

“Another member is on a power quest. Once he completes the ritual he will be more powerful than all four Master Magicians together.”

“Did you kill Tula?” I asked. When she squinted in confusion, I added, “Opal’s sister.”

“No. My cousin had that pleasure.”

Alea had a family connection to Ferde. He must be the one on the quest, which led me to the question. Who was Ferde targeting for the final ritual? It could be any girl with some magical abilities and he could be anywhere. And we only had two days to find him.

I pulled against the ropes with the sudden need to move.

Alea smiled in satisfaction. “Not to worry. You won’t be around for the cleansing of Sitia. However, you will be around for a little longer.” She pulled out her needle and jabbed into the cut on my arm. I yelped.

“I don’t like wasting your blood on this wagon. We have a special frame set up so I can collect your red life and make good use of it.” Alea hopped off the cart.

The Curare began to dull the pain in my arms, but full paralysis didn’t grip my body. Esau’s antidote must be working. The presence of Void meant I didn’t have to worry about my mind being open to magical influences. However, being tied to the cart and unarmed, I didn’t know if my body would be in any condition to fight Alea.

Searching for my pack and bow would reveal to her that I could move. So I clamped my teeth down to keep them from chattering and to remind myself to stay still.

I heard a thump and the cart tilted. My feet now pointed toward the ground as my head came up. With this new angle, I could see a wooden frame just a few feet away. Made of thick beams, the frame had manacles and chains hanging from the top with some type of pulley rigged to them. Under the frame lay a metal basin. I guessed that the victim stood in the basin.

Beyond the frame spread the vivid colors of the flat Daviian Plateau. The patchwork of yellows, tans and browns seemed so soothing in comparison to the torture device.

My heart began beating in a fast tempo. I kept my eyes staring straight ahead when Alea came into view. A few inches taller than me, Alea’s chin reached my eye level. She had removed her cloak and revealed her blue pants and short-sleeved V-neck blouse that had white disks sewn onto it, making it look as if she wore fish scales. A leather weapon belt circled her waist.

“Feeling better?” she asked. “Let’s make sure.” She poked the tip of her blade into my right thigh.

Concentrating so hard on not reacting, I took a moment to realize the thrust hadn’t hurt. The tip of Alea’s knife had hit my switchblade holder. Still strapped to my thigh, I wondered if the weapon remained inside it. Alea considered my expression for many frantic heartbeats. If she suspected I could move, then all would be lost.

“Your clothes are strange,” she said finally. “They’re thick and resist my knife. I will remove them and keep them. They would make a fine reminder of our time together.”

She stepped over to the frame and grabbed the manacles that hung down, pulling. The wheel on the pulley spun and let more chain through until the cuffs reached my cart.

“You’re too heavy for me to lift. Good thing my brother added that pulley so I can easily yank you into place.” She unlocked the metal cuffs and opened them wide.

My time to act approached. If she was smart, she would secure my wrists in the cuffs before untying my feet. Once my arms were locked into the frame, I would be helpless again. I would only have a brief window of opportunity. And I planned to risk everything on a guess.

She leaned over with her knife and cut the rope holding my right arm to the side of the cart. I let it drop to my side as if it were a dead weight, hoping she would untie my other arm before fastening them. Instead, Alea put her knife in her belt and reached for my arm.

I plunged my hand into my pocket and grabbed for my switchblade. Alea froze for a moment in shock. My fingers found the smooth handle and I almost laughed aloud with relief. Yanking the weapon out, I knocked aside her arm and triggered the blade.

She drew her knife. Before she could step back, I plunged my blade into her lower abdomen. Grunting in surprise, she aimed her weapon at my heart. She staggered a bit as she leaned forward to strike, and I felt cold steel bite deep into my stomach. Alea fell, sitting hard on the ground. She hunched over my switchblade.

I gasped for breath, trying to keep from passing out. Pain flamed up my back and gripped my insides like a tight vise.

Alea pulled my blade from her guts and dropped it onto the ground. Crawling over to her cloak, she retrieved a vial of liquid from one of the pockets. She opened it, dipped her finger in, and rubbed the liquid into her stab wound. Curare.

Lurching to her feet, she walked back to me. She studied my condition in silence. The Curare she had used must have been diluted in order for her to move.

“Take my knife out to free yourself and you will bleed to death,” she said with grim satisfaction. “Leave it in and you will eventually die. Either way you’re in the middle of the plains with no one to help you and no magic to heal you.” She shrugged. “Not what I had planned, but the results will be the same.”

“What about your problem?” I asked, huffing with the effort.

“I have my horse and my people close by. Our healer will cure me and I will be back in time to watch your final moments.” She moved past the cart. After some rustling and grunting, she clicked at her horse, and I heard the familiar thumping of hooves.

As my vision began to blur I had to agree with Alea. My position hadn’t improved, but at least I’d denied her the satisfaction of torturing me. The intense pain made concentrating difficult. Do I pull the knife? Or keep it in?

Time passed and I drifted in and out of consciousness. I roused when the drum of a galloping horse reached my ears. I hadn’t made my decision and Alea was returning to gloat.

Closing my eyes to avoid seeing her smug expression, I heard a whinny. The sound soothed my pain as if I’d been dosed with Curare. I opened my eyes and saw Kiki’s face.

My prospects looked better, but I wasn’t sure I could communicate with Kiki.

“Knife,” I said aloud. My throat burned with thirst. “Get me the knife.” Looking over to my switchblade on the ground, I then stared at Kiki. I let my eyes and head move from one to the other. “Please.”

She turned an eye in the right direction. Then walked over and grasped the handle with her teeth. Smart, indeed.

I held out my free hand and she placed the weapon in my palm. “Kiki, if this works out,” I said, “I’ll feed you all the apples and peppermints that you want.”

Fresh waves of pain coursed through my body as I twisted to cut the rope around my left wrist. When the strands severed, I fell to the ground, but had enough sense to land on my elbows and knees, keeping the knife from plunging deeper into my stomach. After an eternity, I reached back and cut the rope around my feet.

I probably would have curled up on the ground and given in to the release of unconsciousness, but Kiki huffed at me and nudged my face with her nose. Looking up, I thought her back seemed as unattainable as the clouds in the sky. No step stool in the wild. I laughed, but it came out as a hysterical cry.

Kiki moved away. She returned with my pack in her mouth, setting it down next to me. I gave her a wry smile. Whenever I rode her, I always had my pack with me. She probably thought I needed my backpack to climb onto her back. Pawing with impatience, she pushed the pack closer to me. I had mentioned apples. Perhaps she wanted the one inside.

I opened it. Smart girl. I found the Curare that I had forgotten about. Planning to use the drug against Ferde, I had packed one of Esau’s vials. I rubbed a tiny drop into my wound. The drug soothed my pain. Sighing with relief, I tried to sit up. My arms and legs felt wooden and heavy, but they moved the right ways. The Theobroma in my body kept the Curare from freezing all my muscles. It was an effort to put my backpack on. Fear of Alea’s return motivated me, and I stood on wobbly legs.

Kiki bent her front legs down to her knees. I looked at her askance. No step stool? She whickered with impatience. I laced my fingers in her mane and swung a leg over her back. She lurched to her feet and broke into a smooth ground-eating stride.

I knew the instant we left the Void. Magic encompassed me like a pool of water, but I soon felt drowned by the amount. An unfortunate side effect of the Theobroma opened my mind to the magical assault. On entering the Avibian Plains, the Sandseed’s protective spells rushed me. Unable to block the magic, I fell.

Strange dreams, images and colors swirled around me. Kiki spoke to me with Irys’s voice. Valek steeled himself as a noose wrapped around his neck. His arms tied behind his back. Ari and Janco huddled by a fire in a grassy clearing, alarmed and uneasy. They had never been lost before. My mother clung to the upper branches of a tree as it swung wildly in a storm. The smell of Curare filled my nose and Theobroma coated my mouth.

Alea’s knife had been driven deeper into my abdomen when I had hit the ground. In my mind’s eye, I saw the torn muscles, the tear in my stomach with blood and acid gushing out. Yet I couldn’t focus my magic to heal the wound.

Valek’s thoughts reached me. He fought the soldiers around him with his feet, but someone pulled on the rope and it tightened around his neck.

Regret pulsed in his heart. Sorry, love. I don’t think we’re going to make it this time.

31

NO! I YELLED TO HIM. Stay alive. Think of something!

I’ll stay if you will, he countered.

Damn frustrating man. In exasperation, I gathered the twisting images and magic that threatened to overwhelm me. I wrung them and wrestled the magic. Images swirled around me like snowflakes in a blizzard. Theobroma coursed through my blood and enhanced my perceptions, making the magic tangible. The threads of power slipped through my hands like a coarse blanket.

Sweating and panting with the effort to hold on to the magic, I yanked Alea’s knife from my stomach and pulled magic toward the wound. Laying my hands over my abdomen, I covered the warm torrent of blood with power.

Concentrating, I sent my mind’s eye toward the damage. I grabbed a thread of the magic swirling around me and used it to stitch closed the rip in my stomach. I repaired my torn abdominal muscles and knitted my skin together. A quick glance at my stomach revealed an ugly red ridge of puckered flesh that caused a sharp stab of pain whenever I drew breath. But the wound was no longer life threatening.

I kept my end of the bargain. I desperately hoped Valek kept his. Exhaustion tugged at my consciousness, and I would have fallen asleep, but Kiki nudged me.

Come, she said in my mind.

I opened my eyes. Tired.

Bad smell. Go.

We were out of the Void, but we must be close to Alea’s people.

Grab tail, she instructed.

Clutching the long strands of her tail, I pulled myself into a standing position. Kiki knelt, and I mounted her back.

She took off, breaking into her gust-of-wind gait. I hung on and tried to stay awake. The plains blurred past as the sun set. The icy air bit at my skin.

When she slowed, I blinked, trying to focus on my surroundings. Still in the plains, but I saw a campfire ahead.

Make noise. Not scare Rabbit.

Rabbits? Sudden hunger made my stomach growl. I did have an apple, but I’d promised that to Kiki.

She snorted in amusement, whinnied and stopped. I glanced past her head and saw two men blocking the path. The moonlight shone off their swords. Ari and Janco. I called to them and they sheathed their weapons as Kiki drew closer.

Rabbit? Not Rabbit Man?

Too quick for a man.

“Thank fate!” Ari cried.

Seeing how I drooped over Kiki’s neck, Ari pulled me off and carried me to their campfire, setting me down as if I was as fragile as an egg. The sudden wish that Ari was my real brother overcame me. Even as an eight-year-old, I’d bet Ari never would have let me be kidnapped.

Janco feigned boredom. “Going off and getting all the glory again,” he said. “I don’t know why we even bothered to come to this crazy land. Your trail marks didn’t even have the decency to go anywhere but in circles,” he grumped.

“Don’t like being lost, Janco?” I teased.

He harrumphed and crossed his arms.

“Don’t worry. Your skills are still keen. You’re in the Avibian Plains. There’s a protective magic here that confuses the mind.”

“Magic,” he spat. “Another good reason to stay in Ixia.”

Ari sat me by the fire. “You look terrible. Here.” He wrapped my cloak around my shoulders.

“Where—”

“We found it in the plains,” Ari explained. Then he frowned. “Valek had asked us to back him up last night. We followed him, but they ambushed him at the Citadel’s gates.”

“Cahil and his men,” I said.

He nodded then began inspecting the cuts on my arms.

“How did they know where to find him?” I asked.

“Captain Marrok is a tracker of some renown,” Ari said. “Seems he had dealings with Valek before. He is the only soldier to have escaped from the Commander’s dungeon. He must have been waiting for the perfect opportunity.” Ari shook his head. “Valek’s capture presented a dilemma.”

“Help Valek or help you,” Janco said.

“I think he suspected something might happen to him and didn’t want you unprotected. So we stuck to the plan and followed you.” Ari handed me a jug of water.

I gulped the liquid.

“Not that we did any good,” Janco huffed. “When we reached the meeting site, the horse and cart were gone and we figured we would track you. She had to stop sometime. But—”

“You lost your way,” I finished for him. Ari probed the deep gash on my right forearm. “Ow!”

“Hold still,” Ari said. “Janco, get my med kit from my pack—these cuts need to be cleaned and sealed.”

If I’d had any energy, I could have healed the wounds on my arms with magic. Instead, I endured Ari’s administrations and admonishments. When he pulled out the pot of Rand’s sealing glue, I asked him about the Commander’s new chef to distract myself from the pain.

“Since Rand never made it to Brazell’s for the transfer of cooks, the Commander promoted one of Rand’s kitchen staff.” Ari frowned.

I grimaced as Ari applied the glue to my cut more from remembering Rand than from the burning in my arm. Rand had lost his life protecting me, but I wouldn’t have been in danger if he hadn’t set me up for an ambush in the first place.

“The food hasn’t been the same,” Janco said with a sigh. “Everyone is losing weight.”

When Ari finished wrapping my arms, he pulled something from the fire. “Janco got a rabbit.” He broke off a piece and handed it to me. “You need to eat something.”

That reminded me. “Kiki needs…” I moved to stand up.

Janco waved me down. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Do you—”

“Yeah, I grew up on a farm.”

I had gnawed every bit of meat off the rabbit’s bone when Janco came back covered with horsehair. He seemed to be in a better mood. “She beautiful,” he said about Kiki. “I’ve never had a horse stand so patiently to be rubbed down and she wasn’t even tied!”

I told him about the honor she gave him by changing his name from Rabbit Man to Rabbit. “Unprecedented.”

He gave me an odd look. “Talking horses. Magic. Crazy southerners.” He shook his head.

He might have said more, but I could no longer stay awake.

The next morning, I told my friends about Alea and the clan on the plateau. They wanted to go after her, but I reminded them about Valek and the need to find Ferde. My heart lurched when I thought of Valek. Even with a night of sleep, I still didn’t have enough energy to find out what had happened to him.

The rest had roused me. “We need to get to the Citadel,” I said, standing.

“Do you know where we are?” Ari asked.

“Somewhere in the plains,” I said, shouldering my backpack.

“Some magician you are,” Janco said. “Do you even know which direction the Citadel is?”

“No.” Kiki came and stood next to me. I grabbed her mane. “How about a boost?” I asked Janco.

He muttered under his breath, but offered his linked hands for my boot. When I had settled onto her back, I looked down at him. “Kiki knows where to go. Can you keep up?”

He grinned. “This rabbit can run.”

Ari and Janco packed their gear and we set off at a trot. All those laps around the Commander’s castle had kept them in top physical condition.

We reached the road, and I heard Janco curse and grumble about being lost only a mile away. When we approached the Citadel’s gates, we encountered the four Master Magicians. They all sat on horseback. A well-armed Calvary team accompanied them.

I smiled at Roze Featherstone’s look of astonishment, but sobered at Irys’s cold stare.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“We were coming to either rescue you or kill you,” Zitora said. She flashed Roze an annoyed glance.

I met Irys’s gaze, questioning. She turned away and blocked my efforts to reach her mind. Even though I had known she would shun me for going off alone, her actions still tore at my heart.

Not bothering to conceal the satisfaction in her voice, Roze said, “Because of your dangerous disregard for the well-being of Sitia, you have been expelled.”

The least of my worries. “Is Opal safe?” I asked the magicians.

Bain Bloodgood nodded. “She told us a woman held her. Was she connected to the killer?”

“No. We still need to find Ferde. He doesn’t want me. He must have taken someone else. Has anyone been reported missing?”

My announcement caused a considerable stir. Everyone had assumed that Ferde was holding Opal. Now they needed to change tactics.

“We’ve been searching for him for two weeks,” Roze said, putting a stop to the chatter. “What makes you think we can find him now?”

“The last victim would not have been kidnapped,” Bain said. “Let us go back and discuss this. Yelena, you will be safest in the Keep. We will talk about your future when this whole mess is resolved.”

The Magicians headed toward the Keep. Ari, Janco and I followed. I thought about Bain’s comment. My future would be nothing without Valek. I caught up to Bain and asked about him.

Bain gave me a stern look, and I felt his magic press against my mental barrier. I relaxed my guard and heard his voice in my mind.

Best not to talk aloud about this, child. Cahil and his men captured him two nights ago, but Cahil would not release Valek to the Councilors or Master Magicians.

I felt Bain’s disapproval over Cahil’s actions. And I had to quell my desire to find Cahil and skewer him with his own sword.

Cahil tried to hang Valek yesterday at dusk, but Valek escaped. Bain seemed impressed. We have no idea where he is now.

I thanked Bain and slowed Kiki, letting the others go ahead. I savored my relief that Valek was alive. When Ari and Janco caught up to me, I relayed the information to them.

When we reached the Council Hall, Ari and Janco headed toward the guest quarters. Kiki picked up her pace and we joined the others.

I thought about where Valek might have gone. Back to Ixia seemed the safest and most logical course, but I knew Valek would stay nearby until Ferde was caught. That led me to consider who would be Ferde’s next victim. He had been working in the Keep where there were many young female magicians just learning to control their magic. Since the full moon would rise tomorrow night, he would probably need a few days to prepare. The Master Magicians couldn’t locate him with magic, but they might be able to contact the girl with him. But how to find her?

Just past the Keep’s gate, the Master Magicians dismounted, handed their horses to the guards and started for the Keep’s administration building. I followed, but Roze stopped me at the base of the steps.

“You’re confined to your quarters. We will deal with you later,” she promised.

I had no intention of obeying her, but I knew they wouldn’t let me into the meeting room. So before Bain could mount the steps to the building, I touched his arm.

“The killer probably seduced one of the young first-years to come with him,” I told him. “If everyone takes a barrack you can find out who’s missing and try to communicate with her.”

“Excellent,” Bain said. “Now go rest, child. And do not worry. We will do all that we can to find the killer.”

I nodded. Fatigue wrapped around me like a stone cloak, and Bain’s order to rest made sense. Before heading toward my rooms, I made a slight detour to the Keep’s guest suite.

My father answered the door. He crushed me in his muscular arms. “Are you all right? Did my pill work?”

“Like a charm.” I kissed him on the cheek. “You saved my life.”

He ducked his head. “I’ve made some more for you just in case.”

I smiled with gratitude. Looking past his shoulder, I asked, “Where’s Mother?”

“In her favorite oak tree by the pasture. She was doing so well until…” He gave me a sardonic grin.

“I know. I’ll find her.”

I stood at the bottom of the oak, feeling as if I’d been run over by a horse. “Mother?” I called.

“Yelena! Come up! Come up where it’s safe!”

No place is safe, I thought. The events of the last two days began to overwhelm me. Too many problems, too much riding on me. My encounter with Alea proved that, even when I felt confident that I could take care of a situation, I really didn’t know what I was doing. If Alea had checked me for weapons, I would be standing ankle deep in my own blood.

“Come down. I need you,” I cried. I sank to the ground and wrapped my arms around my legs as tears poured from my eyes.

With a rustle and creak of branches, my mother appeared beside me. I transformed into a six-year-old child, flung myself into her arms and sobbed. She comforted me, helped me to my room, gave me a handkerchief and a glass of water. Tucking me into bed, she kissed me on my forehead.

When she went to leave, I grabbed her hand. “Please stay.”

Mother smiled, took off her cloak, and lay next to me. I fell asleep in her arms.

The next morning she brought me breakfast in bed. I protested about the extravagance, but she stopped me. “I have fourteen years of mothering to catch up on. Indulge me.”

Even though the plate was loaded with food, I ate every bit and drained the tea. “Sweet cakes are my favorite.”

“I know,” she replied with a smug smile. “I asked one of the servers in the dining hall, and she remembered that every time they cooked sweet cakes your eyes would light up.” She took the empty tray. “You should go back to sleep.” Perl went into the other room.

I could have easily complied, but I needed to find out if the others had discovered who was missing. Unable to stay in bed, I decided to get a quick bath before finding Bain.

“Come to our suite when you’re done at the bathhouse,” Perl said. “Once your father told me what’s been going on with this killer and the Curare, I thought of something that might help you. It may have aided you yesterday,” she huffed. “I’m not a delicate sapling. You and Esau don’t need to keep things from me. And that includes Valek.” She put her hands on her hips, wrinkling the smooth lines of her blue-green dress.

“How—” I sputtered.

“I’m not deaf. The dining hall buzzed with conversation about you and Valek. And Valek’s escape from Cahil!” She put a hand to her throat. But then she took a deep breath.

“I know I tend to overreact about some things and go running for the trees.” She smiled ruefully. “Valek has the most horrible reputation, but I trust you. When you have some time, you need to educate me about him.”

“Yes, Mother,” I said and also promised to stop by their suite after my bath.

It was the middle of the morning so the bathhouse was almost empty. Washing, I thought about how much I would tell my mother about Valek. When I finished drying off, I changed and headed toward the guest suite.

Dax intercepted me. His usual jovial face was taut with worry, and the dark smudges under his eyes made it look as if he hadn’t slept in a while.

“Have you seen Gelsi?” he asked.

“Not since the New Beginnings feast.” So much had happened since that night. The semester had not gone as I had imagined. Nothing since coming to Sitia had gone as I had imagined. “Wasn’t she working on some special project for Master Bloodgood?”

“Yes. She was experimenting with the Bellwood plant. But I haven’t seen her in days and I can’t find her anywhere.”

His words struck me like Alea’s knife. I gasped.

“What?” His green eyes widened in alarm.

“Plant? Where? With who?” The questions tumbled from my mouth.

“I already checked the greenhouses many times. She worked with one of the gardeners. Maybe we could ask him?”

Him. My heart twisted. I knew who Gelsi was with.

32

“ME? BUT I’VE NEVER LINKED with Gelsi.” Dax’s drawn face took on a wild fearful expression.

I had taken Dax back to my rooms. We sat together on the couch. “Don’t worry. I’ve only worked with her once, but you’ve known her for a year. I’ll find her through you.” I hoped. “Relax,” I instructed. I took his hand in mine. “Think of her.” Finding a thread of magic, I reached toward his mind.

A horrible vision of Gelsi, bloody and terrified, filled my mind. “Dax, don’t imagine where she might be. Think of her at the New Beginnings feast.”

The image transformed into a smiling young lady wearing a soft green gown. I felt Dax’s thrill when he held her hand and guided her while they danced. I sent my magic to Gelsi, trying to see Dax from her mind.

She gazed up at him. They had always danced together at the feast, but this time felt different. Her skin tingled where he had touched her, and a warmth pulsed in her chest.

Gelsi, I called, pulling her into the memory.

What a lovely evening, she thought. How things have changed. Dax seemed distant after that night. Preoccupied.

Gelsi, where are you? I asked.

Shame flared. I’ve been a fool. No one must know. Please tell no one. Fear trembled through her mind.

You were deceived by a cunning sorcerer. No one will hold that against you. Where are you?

He will punish me.

She tried to pull away. I showed her Dax’s concern for her. His hunt through the Keep. Don’t let your captor win, I pleaded.

Gelsi showed me a bare room. She was naked and tied to metal spikes that had been driven into the wooden floor. Strange symbols had been painted on the floor and walls. Pain throbbed from between her legs and the multiple cuts along her arms and legs burned. He hadn’t needed to drug her with Curare.

I loved him, she said. I gave myself to him.

Instead of the wonderful loving experience she had expected, Ferde tied her down, beat her and raped her. Then he bled her, collecting the blood in an earthen bowl.

Show me where you are, I instructed.

Beyond the room was the living area and outside I could see a courtyard with a white jade sculpture of fifteen horses.

Have faith, I said. We’ll be there.

He’ll know. He has surrounded the neighborhood with a magical shield, he knows when someone passes through and if he feels threatened, he’ll complete the ritual.

Doesn’t he need to wait until the full moon tonight?

No.

The note left by Alea had originally set the exchange for the full moon so everyone had not only assumed Ferde sent the note, but that the phase of the moon was critical for the ritual.

He had to move many times, Gelsi said. I had thought it exciting. I didn’t know he was the one the Masters were searching for. He led me to believe he was on a secret mission for the Master Magicians.

We’ll find a way, I promised.

Hurry.

I withdrew my awareness and sat back. Dax stared at me in horror, he had been able to see and hear our conversation.

“She will need you when this is over,” I told him.

“We need to tell the Masters—”

“No.” My mind raced through options.

“But he’s strong. You heard Gelsi. He has a shield,” Dax said.

“All the more reason to go alone. They have been searching for him and he knows them. I think I can get through undetected.”

“How?”

“There’s no time to explain. But Gelsi will need you close by. Can you meet me in the market in an hour?”

“Of course.”

I jumped up and started gathering supplies.

Dax hesitated at the door. “Yelena?”

I looked at him.

“What happens if you don’t stop him?” Fear shone in his green eyes.

“Then we find Valek. Otherwise, Sitia will be Ferde’s.”

Dax swallowed his fright and nodded before leaving. I packed my equipment and changed my clothes. Dressed in a plain brown tunic and pants I would blend in with the regular citizens of the Citadel. Covering my disguise with my cloak, I stopped at my parent’s suite on the way out.

Leif sat with them in the living room. I ignored him. “Father, do you have those extra pills?” I asked, hoping he knew I wanted the Theobroma.

He nodded in understanding and went to retrieve them. While I waited, Mother remembered her little invention she had told me about. She handed me a strange device made of tubes and rubber and explained how to work it.

“Just in case,” she said.

“This is great,” I said. “You were right about it being useful.”

She beamed. “That’s what every mother wants to hear.”

Leif had said nothing, but I could feel his penetrating stare as if he tasted my intentions.

Esau handed me the pills. “Are you coming to lunch with us?”

“No. I have something I need to do. I’ll catch up with you later,” I said, giving my father a hug and my mother a kiss on her cheek.

A queasy feeling rolled in my stomach. Perhaps I should tell the Master Magicians about Ferde and Gelsi? After all, it had been only pure chance that saved me from Alea. I was still discovering what I could do with my magic. And now that I had been expelled, would I be able to fully explore my potential?

My mother stopped me just past the door.

“Here,” she said, handing me my fire amulet. “I think you need this. Remember what you endured to win it.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she shook her head, “I want it back.” She squeezed me in a tight hug for a moment.

Examining the scarlet prize in the sunlight, I marveled at Perl’s empathy. I tucked the amulet into my pocket and set a brisk pace for the Citadel.

After I had passed the Keep’s gate, I heard pounding footsteps behind me. I whirled, drawing my bow. Leif halted a few feet away. His machete hung from his belt, but he made no move to grab it.

“Not now, Leif,” I said, turning, but he clasped my shoulder and spun me around to face him.

“I know where you’re going,” he said.

“Bully for you.” I shrugged his hand off. “Then you know time is of the essence. Go back to the Keep.” I started to walk.

“If I do, I’ll tell the Masters what you’re doing.”

“Truly? You’re not very good at telling.”

“This time I won’t hesitate.”

Seeing the stubborn set to his broad shoulders, I stopped. “What do you want?”

“To come along.”

“Why?”

“You’ll need me.”

“Considering how helpful you were in the jungle fourteen years ago, I think I’m better off on my own.” I spat the words at him.

He cringed, but the obstinacy remained in his face. “Either include me in your plans, or I’ll follow you and ruin them.”

I clamped down on my sudden rage. I didn’t have time for this. “Fine, but let me warn you that you’re going have to let me inside your mind in order for you to get through Ferde’s shield.”

His face paled, but he nodded and fell into step with me as I hurried to the market. Dax waited there. I left Leif with him and hunted for Fisk. He helped a woman barter for a bolt of cloth, but he finished as soon as he recognized me.

“Lovely Yelena, do you need help?” he asked.

I told him what I needed.

He smiled and said, “Sounds like fun, but—”

“It’s going to cost me,” I finished for him.

He raced off to gather his friends.

Once Fisk had assembled about twenty children, I explained my plan to them. “Make sure you don’t go within a block of the courtyard until you hear the signal. Understand?” I asked. The children nodded. When I felt satisfied they knew what to do, Fisk’s friends scattered and went to get into position. Fisk led Leif and me toward the white jade statue. Dax waited in a side alley far enough away not to touch Ferde’s shield, but within sight of the second-story windows.

I kept my mind open, seeking for the edge of Ferde’s magical barrier. About half a block away from the courtyard, Leif touched my arm, stopping me.

“It’s just ahead,” he whispered.

“How do you know?”

“I feel a wall of fire. Don’t you?”

“No.”

“Then it’s good that I came.”

I glared, but had no reply. Fisk watched us, waiting for our signal.

This was not the time for a fight. I looked at Leif. “You have to open your mind to me,” I told him. “You have to trust me.”

He nodded without hesitating. “Do it.”

I pulled power to me, spinning it around me like a huge curtain. Reaching out, I made contact with Fisk’s mind. “Think of your parents,” I instructed, hoping this would work.

The young boy closed his eyes and imagined his parents. I linked to their minds through Fisk then reached for Leif’s.

Leif’s mind resembled a black labyrinth of pain. Guilt, shame and anger twisted together. I understood why Moon Man wanted to help him, but I felt a mean satisfaction at Leif’s remorse.

Pushing his dark thoughts aside, I replaced them with Fisk’s father’s concerns about finding work and supporting his family. I pulled in Fisk’s mother’s thoughts about her sister’s ailing health into my own mind. Holding their personalities and thoughts in Leif’s and my mind, I gave Fisk the signal.

He barked like a dog. Soon other barks echoed on the marble walls in reply. Fisk’s friends would begin the distraction, playing tag and running in and out of the courtyard and Ferde’s magical shield as many times as they could.

I took Fisk and Leif’s hands and the three of us continued on to the courtyard. As we crossed the barrier, I felt the probing heat of an annoyed and powerful magician. He scanned our thoughts, determined we were one of the local beggar families and dismissed us.

When we reached the statue, I released Fisk’s parents. They would have an unusual story to tell their friends about how they had felt as if they were in two places at once.

“That’s half the battle,” I said to Leif.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. His face was flushed with shame. Irritated, I snapped, “Now is not the time for this.”

He nodded, but still wouldn’t meet my gaze. Fisk ran off to join his friends in the game, giving us a few more minutes to get into the house.

We approached the house from a side street. The door was locked. I pulled my diamond pick and my tension wrench from my backpack and began working on the lock. Once I had aligned the pins, the lock’s tumbler turned and the door swung inward. I heard a surprised huff from Leif. Then we stepped inside the foyer and closed the door. I shoved my picks into my pocket.

Walking without sound, we entered a living area. The normal furniture and decorations seemed out of place. I guess I had expected something wild and weird; something that reflected a killer’s mind.

Leif held his machete and I gripped my bow, but I knew they would not protect us. Magic filled the house. It pressed against my skin and I started to sweat. The sounds of the children faded and we heard the light tread of feet from the floor above us.

Connecting with Gelsi’s mind, I saw Ferde approach her. He held a brown stone bowl and a long dagger. He wore his red mask and nothing else. She had been fascinated with the tattoos and symbols on his sculpted physique, but now she eyed them with revulsion.

I’m downstairs, I told her. What’s he going to do?

He wants more blood. Wait or else he will kill me if he hears you.

I had to physically hold on to Leif when Gelsi started moaning with pain. Handing him one of Esau’s Theobroma pills, I motioned that he should put it into his mouth. I placed my pack on the floor and quietly removed Perl’s device from my backpack.

With my bow in one hand and the device in the other, I waited at the bottom of the staircase with Leif. Finally, we heard Ferde moving again.

He’s gone, Gelsi said with relief.

My stomach tightened with apprehension. I pulled power to me to strengthen my mental defenses. A mistake. Ferde felt the draw and I could sense his growing alarm.

“Now,” I whispered to Leif. We rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Ferde waited for us on the landing. We skittered to a stop on the top step. An amused smile quirked Ferde’s lips before he pressed them together with concentration. Revulsion and terror welled up my throat at the sight of him, and I thought I would vomit as Tula’s horrible memories filled my mind.

The wave of his magic crashed against us. I grabbed the railing to keep from plummeting down the stairs. Leif jerked beside me but remained upright. Was that it? I glanced at Ferde. His eyes were closed. Moving toward him, I raised Perl’s device.

“Yelena, stop,” Leif said. His voice sounded odd.

I looked at Leif in time to see him swing his machete. Jumping back, I dropped Perl’s device and blocked Leif’s weapon with my bow.

“What are you—” I tried to ask, but with the pill between my teeth made it hard to talk.

Leif spat his pill out and moved to strike again. “When those men took my perfect baby sister, I thought I would reclaim my parents’ undivided attention.” Leif’s machete sliced toward my neck.

I ducked. Had his shame and guilt all been an act? Was he working with Ferde this whole time? Pushing aside my stunned disbelief, I jabbed him in the stomach with the end of my bow. He hunched over and grunted. Magic pressed on my skin and Leif straightened with renewed vigor. But who’s magic?

“Instead, I had to compete with a perfect ghost,” Leif said and attacked.

Chunks of wood flew through the air as I blocked his wide blade. It was only a matter of time before he would destroy my bow and I was running out of room in the narrow landing. There was a hallway to my left, and an open doorway on my right.

“Mother refused to leave our house, and Father was never home. All because of you.” Leif puffed with effort. “And you stayed away just to spite me. Didn’t you? You’re my strangler fig, and now it’s time to chop you down.”

Ferde had disappeared. I felt Gelsi’s brief cry of alarm as Ferde entered her room. He planned to finish the ritual while Leif kept me occupied. And it was working.

With a loud crack, my bow splintered in two. Leif advanced and I formed a magical shield, but he walked right through. As a last-ditch effort I sent out my mental awareness, entering his dark mind.

Hate and self-loathing filled his thoughts. I felt another presence in Leif’s head. Ferde had Story Weaver abilities and he had brought out all of Leif’s raw emotions and used them against me.

As Leif sliced his machete toward me, I stepped to the left, bringing my awareness back. I couldn’t defend myself physically while mentally gone; I just wasn’t that strong. Leif pulled his weapon back and thrust at me again. I had nothing left to defend myself. Perl’s device was out of reach.

Gelsi’s pleas for help burned through my thoughts like a hot poker, energizing me. I projected myself into Leif’s mind, taking control of his body like I had done with Goel. Halting the tip of his machete a mere inch from my stomach, I made Leif step back.

Pushing through the darkness of Leif’s mind, I found the young boy who had watched his sister being kidnapped; untainted with the feelings of guilt and hate. At that moment he held only curiosity and disbelief. Two emotions that Ferde wouldn’t be able to use against me. I sent Leif into a deep dreamless sleep. He crumpled to the floor as I went back to my body. Stopping Ferde was paramount; I would deal with Leif later. I hoped.

Picking up Perl’s device, I sprinted down the hall, searching for Gelsi. Only the last door on the left had been closed. Locked. I yanked my picks out and unlocked the door. My fastest time yet. Janco would be proud.

The door swung inward and I stumbled into the room. Ferde had his hands around Gelsi’s throat. I watched in horror as all animation left her face. Her eyes turned sightless and flat.

Ferde shouted and thrust his fists toward the ceiling in celebration.

33

TOO LATE. WITH MY HEART sinking, I watched Ferde rejoice. But then I saw a strange shadow rise from Gelsi’s body. Before logic could overrule, I dove. Knocking Ferde aside, I inhaled this shadow, gathering Gelsi’s soul inside me. It felt as if the world paused for a moment so I could tuck her into a safe corner of my mind. Then, snap. Movement resumed and I fell on top of Ferde. Perl’s device flew from my hand. It landed next to the wall.

After a brief struggle, Ferde pinned me to the floor, sitting on my stomach. “That’s my soul,” he said. “Give it back.”

“It doesn’t belong to you.”

Yelena? I felt Gelsi’s confusion in my mind.

Hold on, I told her.

Ferde reached toward my neck. I grabbed his hands, and using his forward momentum I pushed him further off balance with my left knee. I planted my left foot on the floor and twisted my hips, rolling him off me. I jumped up and assumed a fighting stance.

Ferde smiled and regained his feet with a panther-quick grace. “We are well matched. But I think I have the advantage.”

I braced for an attack, but he didn’t move. His red tattoos began to glow until they burned my eyes. He caught my gaze with his own, staring at me with his dark brown eyes.

Ferde’s face transformed into Reyad’s. My world spun and I found myself back in Reyad’s bedroom in Ixia, tied to the bed and watching Reyad dig through his chest of torture devices. After an initial moment of panic and fear that I would be forced to relive Reyad’s torture, the scene jumped ahead to Reyad’s stunned expression as hot blood gushed from his throat, soaking me.

You are a killer, too, Ferde said in my mind. Images of the other men I had killed flashed by. You have the power to collect souls without the need for symbols and blood. Why do you think Reyad still haunts you? You have taken his soul, your first of many more. I see the future and yours doesn’t improve.

The images spun dizzyingly and Irys’s cold eyes stared at me as I watched Valek swing from a noose. Leif’s hatred pounded in my mind along with Cahil’s desire to have me executed. The Commander smiling in satisfaction at my trial for committing espionage, because he had gotten what he wanted from me and now I would no longer be a problem for Ixia.

Look at what the Master Magicians did to that Soulfinder long ago, Ferde said.

A man who had been chained to a post was set on fire. His screams of pain vibrated in my mind. Ferde held that image until the man’s skin had burned away. I struggled to regain control over my mind, but Ferde’s magic equaled a Master and I couldn’t push him away.

The Soulfinder only wanted to help, bringing the dead back to life for their family and friends. It wasn’t his fault they were different when they awoke, Ferde said in my mind. Panic and fear of the unknown condemned him just like the Council will condemn you, too. All that I have shown you will be your fate. I see it in your story threads. Moon Man isn’t your true Story Weaver, I am.

His logic was persuasive. He understood my desire to find my place. It was next to him. Soulfinder and Soulstealer.

Yes. I’ll change your story and the Council won’t burn you alive. Just give me Gelsi’s soul.

A small corner of my mind resisted, yelling for action. Stealing souls is wrong, I said. I shouldn’t.

Then why have you been gifted with the ability if you’re not supposed to use it? Ferde asked.

I should use it to help people.

That’s what the other Soulfinder wanted to do. See what happened to him.

Focusing my thoughts became difficult. Ferde’s control began to spread and soon he would take Gelsi from me.

Give me the girl. If I pull her from you, you will die. You’ll be the first victim of my new administration. Your parents will be the next two.

Images of Perl being mutilated and Esau being hacked into pieces filled my mind. Blood splashed as I watched in helpless horror.

Save them and you can have complete freedom for the first time in your life.

His strong spell enticed me. I found myself agreeing with him. Freedom. Ferde sent a wave of pleasure through my body. I moaned as an intoxicating mix of joy and gratification flushed through me. I wanted to give Gelsi to him. But he went too far when my soul filled with contentment. Because I already owned that feeling whenever Valek held me in his arms.

I swayed on my feet and sweated with the effort to keep Ferde from taking Gelsi. He had realized his mistake and launched a mental attack to get her soul. Wrapping my arms tight around my chest, I collapsed to the ground. Fire burned inside me. Tears and sweat stung my eyes, but I spotted Perl’s device nearby before pain twisted my body. All I needed was a second.

Trouble, love? Valek asked.

I need your immunity to magic.

Yours.

A resistance to magic, unlike any barrier I could form, grew in my mind, blocking Ferde’s control. I opened my eyes.

“You almost had me,” I said to Ferde. I picked up Perl’s device and stood on unsteady legs.

Ferde’s surprise didn’t last long. “No matter. The effort to repel me has weakened you.”

In two strides, he closed the distance between us. His hands wrapped around my throat. He was right. While I didn’t have the power to stop him, I could do something else. As his thumbs pressed into my windpipe, I lifted Perl’s device.

Black and white spots began to dance in front of my eyes. Before Ferde could react to my movement, I aimed the nozzle at him and pumped the rubber ball, spraying Curare into his face. Invented to apply perfume, Perl’s little device worked like a charm.

Ferde’s face froze in horror. I pushed his hands away and he fell to the ground.

There will be others, was Ferde’s last thought before the drug paralyzed his body and his magic.

Once satisfied that he was frozen, I entered his mind. Trapped within the darkness were all the souls he had stolen. I released them into the sky. Feeling a rush of movement, I briefly joined the freed souls, soaking in their happiness and joy, then I returned to my body.

Without a moment to lose, I scooted over to Gelsi. Resting the tips of my fingers on her neck, I concentrated on her injuries and repaired them, including the cuts along her arms and legs.

Go back, I told Gelsi.

She had huddled in my mind, frightened and confused during the battle with Ferde, but now she understood. Her body bloomed with life, and she drew in a long shaky breath.

I cut her bonds with my switchblade, and, after spitting out the soggy Theobroma pill, I lay next to her, feeling exhausted and spent. She clung to me. My throat blazed with each lungful of air.

After a long while, I summoned the energy to stand, pulling Gelsi with me. We found Gelsi’s clothes and I helped her into them. Before guiding her down to the living room to rest on a comfortable couch, I waved a hand out one of the second-story windows. Dax would be here soon.

“I will be expelled,” she whispered.

I shook my head. “You’ll be smothered with concern and understanding. And given all the time you need to recover.”

Once Dax arrived to take my place next to Gelsi, I went back up to the landing where I had left Leif. Reluctance pulled at my legs. It felt as if they had been pricked with Curare.

I didn’t have the strength to untie his twisted thoughts. My promise to Moon Man would have to wait a while longer. I drew Leif into a lighter sleep so he would rouse after I left. Ferde’s last comment had made me realize that I still had some unfinished business to attend to.

Dax had a protective arm around Gelsi when I went downstairs.

“I sent a message to Master Bloodgood. The Masters are on their way with a battalion of guards to take Ferde to the Keep’s prison,” Dax said.

“Then I better go. I’m supposed to be confined to my quarters.”

Dax shook his head. “Second Magician knows what you did.”

“All the more reason not to be here when they arrive.”

“But—”

I waved and hurried out the door, slinging my backpack over one shoulder. Since I had been expelled from the Keep’s program, I knew I would soon be kicked out of my rooms. I planned to be long gone before giving Roze the satisfaction of evicting me.

Fisk ran over to me when I crossed the courtyard.

“Did we help?” Fisk asked. “Is everything okay?”

“You did great.” I rummaged in my pack and handed Fisk all the Sitian coins I had. “Distribute these to your troops.”

He smiled and dashed away.

A bone-deep weariness settled on me as I made my way through the Citadel. My surroundings blurred and I walked in a daze. When I passed the Council Hall, the group of beggars, who always hovered near the steps, began to follow me.

“Sorry. I can’t help you today,” I called over my shoulder. The group returned to the Hall, but one persisted. I turned around. “I said—”

“Lovely lady, spare a copper?” the man asked.

Dirt streaked his face and his hair hung in greasy clumps. His clothes were torn and filthy, and he smelled like horse manure. But he couldn’t disguise those penetrating sapphire-blue eyes from me.

“Can’t you spare a copper for the man who just saved your life?” Valek asked.

“I’m broke. I had to pay off the distraction. Those kids don’t work cheap. What—”

“Unity fountain. A quarter hour.” Valek returned to the steps and joined the other beggars.

I continued toward the Keep, but once I was out of sight of the Council Hall, I took a side street and headed to the Unity Fountain. The jade sphere with its holes and other spheres nestled inside it shone in the sunlight. The water spray from the circle of waterspouts sparkled in the cool air. My relief from knowing that Valek was unharmed warred with my concern that he should be far away from the Citadel.

A quick movement in a shadow caught my attention. I wandered over to the dark recess of a doorway and joined Valek, embracing him for a fierce moment before pulling back.

“Thank you for helping me against Ferde,” I said. “Now go home before you get caught.”

Valek smiled. “And miss all the fun? No, love. I’m going with you on your errand.”

I could only produce a muted surprise. Valek and I didn’t have a mental connection like the one I’d had with Irys, yet he knew my thoughts, and, when I had needed his help, he had always been there.

“There’s no way I can convince you to go to Ixia?” My brief spurt of energy on seeing Valek safe faded.

“None.”

“All right. Although I reserve the right to say, ‘I told you so’ should you get captured.” I tried to say it in a stern tone, but my battered and tired soul was so filled with relief that Valek was coming with me that the words turned playful.

“Agreed.” Valek’s eyes lit up, anticipating the challenge.

34

VALEK AND I DECIDED ON the best course of action, and arranged to meet again at the edge of the Avibian Plains.

When I reached the Keep, I went straight to my rooms to pack. While I determined what to take along, someone knocked on my door. Out of habit I looked for my bow before realizing it had been destroyed by Leif. Instead, I grabbed my switchblade.

I relaxed a bit when I opened the door. Irys stood there, looking hesitant. Stepping back, I invited her in.

“I have some news,” Irys said. When I just stared at her, she continued, “Ferde has been taken to the Keep’s cells, and the Council has revoked your expulsion. They want you to stay so you can fully explore your magical abilities.”

“Who would teach me?”

Irys glanced at the ground. “It would be your choice.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Irys nodded and turned to go. Then stopped. “I’m sorry, Yelena. I had no trust in your abilities and yet you achieved what four Master Magicians could not.”

There was still a faint link between us, and I felt Irys’s uncertainty and her loss of confidence. She questioned her ability to handle future difficult situations. She felt her beliefs on what was needed to solve a problem had been proven wrong.

“In this situation, magic was not the solution,” I told her. “It was the lack of magic that allowed me to beat Ferde. And I couldn’t have done that without Valek.”

She considered my words for a moment and seemed to make a decision.

“I propose a partnership,” Irys said.

“A partnership?” I asked.

“I believe you no longer need a teacher, but a partner to help you discover just how strong a Soulfinder you are.”

I winced at the title. “Do you think I’m one?”

“I’ve suspected, but didn’t want to really believe it. An automatic response just like your cringe just now. And, it seems I need some guidance. I’ve found that the Sitian way is not always appropriate. Perhaps you could help me with that?”

“Are you sure you would want to learn the ‘rush into a situation and hope for the best’ method?”

“As long as you want to discover more about being a Soulfinder. Is it really against the Ethical Code? Perhaps the Code needs to be updated. And could you be considered a Master, or would you have to take the Master’s test first?”

“The Master test? I’ve heard some horror stories.” My throat began to tighten. I swallowed with some difficultly.

“Rumors, mostly. To discourage the students so that only those who feel confident in their abilities will be brave enough to ask to take the test.”

“And if they’re not strong enough?”

“They won’t succeed, but they’ll learn the full extent of their powers. This is better than being surprised later.”

Irys fell silent. I felt her mind reaching toward mine. Do we have a deal? she asked in my mind.

I’ll think about it. A lot has happened.

So it has, she agreed. Let me know when you’re ready. Irys left my rooms.

I closed the door. My mind shuffled through the possibility of exploring my powers versus the risk of being condemned as a Soulfinder. Despite having to worry about poison in the Commander’s food, I began to think life in Ixia had been easier. After my errand, as Valek so casually called it, I had some choices on where to go next. Nice to have choices. Again.

I moved through my rooms, checking if I missed anything. I had packed the valmur statue for Valek, the rest of my Sitian coins, my northern uniform and an extra set of clothes. My armoire remained filled with my apprentice’s robes and a couple of Nutty’s skirt/pants. Papers and books piled on my desk, and the room smelled of Apple Berry and Lavender. My stomach squeezed with longing and with a sudden realization. These rooms in the Keep had turned into my home, despite my resistance.

Shouldering my pack, I felt the weight of it drag on me as I left. Stopping at the Keep’s guest quarters on my way, I visited my parents. I could hear Esau in the kitchen and Perl had a strange expression on her face. Her hand touched her neck so I knew something had upset her. She made me promise to stay for tea, pulling my backpack off, and she hovered over me until I sat in one of the pink overstuffed chairs.

Calling to Esau to bring another cup, Perl perched in the seat next to me as if she would spring into action should I decide to leave. Esau brought in the tea tray. She jumped up and handed me one of the steaming cups.

Seeming to be satisfied that I was anchored to my chair, at least until I finished the tea, Perl said, “You’re leaving. Aren’t you?” She shook her head before I could answer. “Not that you would tell me. You treat me like a delicate flower. I’ll have you know that the most delicate flowers often produce the strongest scent when crushed.” She stared at me.

“I have some unfinished business to attend to. I’ll be back,” I said, but the weak response failed to soothe her.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

“All right. Then don’t lie to yourself.” She eyed my bulging pack that she had set on the floor. “Send us word when you’re settled in Ixia, and we’ll come visit,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Though, probably not until the hot season. I don’t like the cold.”

“Mother!” I stood and almost spilled my drink.

Esau nodded, seeming nonplussed by the topic of our conversation. “I’d like to find the Mountain Laurel that grows near the ice pack. I read somewhere that the plant can cure Kronik’s Cough. Be interesting to find out.”

“You’re not concerned that I might return to Ixia?” I asked my parents.

“Considering the week you had,” my father said, “we’re just happy you’re alive. Besides, we trust your judgment. “

“If I do go to Ixia, will you promise to visit often?”

They promised. Not wanting to prolong the goodbyes, I snatched my pack and left.

Apple? Kiki asked with a hopeful tone.

No, but I’ll get you some peppermints. I went into the barn’s tack room to search for the bag of candy. I took two and returned to Kiki.

After she sucked the candy down, I asked her, Ready to go?

Yes. Saddle?

Not this time. The Keep provided tack for the students, but it was understood that once a student graduated, he bought his own equipment.

I pulled the step stool over and Kiki snorted. I know. I know, I said. No step stool in wild. But I’m tired.

In fact, what little energy I had left leaked away with an alarming speed. Kiki and I didn’t encounter any trouble at either the Keep’s or the Citadel’s gates. We took the road through the valley for a while. I refused to look back at the Citadel. I planned to come back, didn’t I? Today wouldn’t be the last time I saw the pastel colors of the sunset reflected in the white marble walls. Right?

As the light faded from the sky, I heard the pounding of hooves on the road behind me. Kiki stopped and spun to face the newcomer.

Topaz, she said with pleasure.

Though by the molten anger and murderous expression on Cahil’s face, I knew this encounter would be far from pleasant.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

“That’s not your concern.”

Cahil’s face turned a livid red as he sputtered in astonishment. “Not my concern? Not my concern?”

I saw him rein in his temper. Then in a deadly rumble, he said, “You’re the heart mate of the most wanted criminal in Sitia. Your whereabouts are of the utmost concern to me. In fact, I’m going to personally see to it that I know exactly where you are at all times.” He whistled.

I heard a rush of movement and turned in time to see Cahil’s men move into defensive positions behind me. Trying to conserve my strength, I hadn’t scanned the road ahead with my magic. Hadn’t believed I would need to. Silly me.

Did you smell them, Kiki? I asked.

No. Upwind. Go past?

Not yet.

Looking back at Cahil, I demanded, “What do you want?”

“Playing the simpleton to delay the inevitable, Yelena? I guess it has worked for you in the past. You certainly played me for a fool,” he said with an eerie calmness. “Convincing me and First Magician that you weren’t a spy, using your magic to make me trust you. I fell for it all.”

“Cahil, I—”

“What I want is to kill Valek. Besides getting revenge for the murder of my family, I will be able to show the Council my abilities and they will finally support me.”

“You had Valek before and lost him. What makes you think you can kill him this time?”

“Your heart mate will exchange his life for yours.”

“You’re going to need more men to capture me.”

“Truly? Take another look.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Cahil’s men had kept their distance from Kiki’s hindquarters, but, even in the twilight, I could see that each one held a blowpipe to his mouth, aiming at me.

“The darts are treated with Curare,” Cahil said. “An excellent Sitian weapon. You won’t get far.”

Fear replaced annoyance as my heart rate increased. I had some Theobroma in my pack, but I knew if I tried to take it off my back, I would become a pin cushion for Cahil’s men.

“Will you cooperate or do I need to have you immobilized?” Cahil sounded as if he asked if I would like some tea.

Ghost, Kiki said.

Before I could understand what Kiki meant, Valek sauntered into our group from the tall grass of the plains. Everyone froze for a second in shock. Cahil gaped.

“That’s an interesting choice, love,” Valek said. “You’ll need some time to think it over. In the meantime…” Valek held his arms away from his body as he moved closer to Cahil. He had changed from his beggar disguise into the plain brown tunic and pants that the local citizens wore. He appeared to be unarmed, but I knew better, and, it seemed, so did Cahil who transferred Topaz’s reins to his left hand and pulled his sword.

“Let’s see if I have this right,” Valek continued, seeming unconcerned about Cahil’s sword a few feet away. “You want revenge for your family. Understandable. But you should know that the royal family is not your family. One thing I have learned over the years is to know my enemy. The royal bloodline ended the day the Commander took control of Ixia. I made sure of that.”

“You lie!” Cahil urged Topaz forward, lunging at Valek with his sword.

Stepping to the side with grace and speed, Valek avoided being trampled and cut.

When Cahil turned Topaz for another charge, I said, “It makes sense. Valek wouldn’t leave a job unfinished.”

He pulled back on the bridle, stopping in disbelief. “Your love for him has damaged your senses.”

“And your hunger for power has affected your intelligence. Your men are using you, yet you refuse to see the obvious.”

Cahil shook his head. “I won’t listen to any more lies. My men are loyal. They obey me or else they will be punished. Goel’s death helped me to reinforce that lesson.”

I recognized that flatness in his pale blue eyes. “You killed Goel.”

He smiled. “My men have pledged their lives to me. I committed no crime.” He brandished his sword. “Ready,” he called to his men. “Aim and—”

“Think about this before you gloat about your men, Cahil. They look to Captain Marrok for approval before following your orders. They gave you a sword that was too heavy for you, and failed to properly train you with it. You are supposed to be related to the King, who was a powerful magician. Why don’t you have any magic?”

“I—” Cahil hesitated.

His men glanced at each other in either consternation or confusion. I couldn’t tell, but it broke their concentration. And in that moment, Valek leaped onto Kiki’s back behind me. She took off into the plains without being told. I grabbed her mane as Valek’s arms encircled my waist, and Kiki broke into her gust-of-wind gait.

I heard Cahil yell fire, and thought I heard the whiz of a dart near my ear, but we were soon out of range. Kiki traveled twice the distance of a normal gallop without any obvious effort. When the moon had reached its apex, Kiki slowed then stopped.

Smell gone, she said.

Valek and I slid off her back. I inspected her for injuries before she snorted with impatience and moved away to graze.

I shivered in the cold air, searching my body for darts before wrapping my cloak tighter. “That was close.”

“Not really,” Valek said, pulling me toward him. “We distracted the men so when Wannabe King gave the order they didn’t have time to aim.”

Valek felt warm even though he wasn’t wearing a cloak. Seeming to read my thoughts, he said, “I’ll share yours.” He smiled with a mischievous delight. “But first you need a fire, food and some sleep.”

I shook my head. “I need you.” It didn’t take me long to convince him. Once I had divested him of his clothes, he elected to join me in my cloak.

I woke to the delightful smell of roasting meat. Squinting in the bright sunlight, I saw Valek crouched near a fire. He had set up a spit of meat over the glowing embers.

“Breakfast?” I asked as my stomach rumbled.

“Dinner. You’ve slept all day.”

I sat up. “You should have woken me. What if Cahil finds us?”

“Doubtful with all this magic in the air.” Valek peered into the sky, scenting the wind. “Does it bother you?”

I opened my mind to the power surrounding us. The Sandseed’s protective magic tried to invade and confuse Valek’s thoughts, but his immunity deflected the strands of power with ease. The magic seemed indifferent to my presence.

“No.” I told Valek about my distant relationship to the Sandseed clan. “If I came close to their village with the intent to harm them, I think the protection would attack me.” Then I thought about Moon Man’s magical abilities and his scimitar. “Either that or one of their Story Weavers would.”

Valek considered. “How long will it take us to reach the Daviian Plateau?”

“It depends on Kiki. If she decides to use her gust-of-wind gait, we could be there in a few hours.”

“Gust-of-wind? Is that what you call it? I’ve never seen a horse run that fast before.”

I mulled over Valek’s comment. “She only does it when we’re in the plains. Perhaps it’s connected to the Sandseed’s magic.”

Valek shrugged. “Faster is better. The faster we can take care of Alea, the better.”

But exactly how we would take care of Alea remained the real question. I knew she would be a threat to me if she had survived her injury, yet I didn’t want to kill her. Perhaps turning her over to the Sandseeds would be enough. I thought about Moon Man’s remarks about the Daviian Vermin, and realized that Ferde’s comment about the existence of others might not have been about Alea coming after me, but about the other Daviians.

Valek pulled the meat from the fire and handed the spit to me. “Eat. You need your strength.”

I sniffed the unidentifiable lump. “What is it?”

He laughed. “You’re better off not knowing.”

“Poisons?”

“You tell me,” he teased.

I took an experimental bite. The juicy meat had an odd earthy taste. Some type of rodent, I thought, but no poisons. When I had finished my supper, we began to pack up our meager supplies.

“Valek, after we deal with Alea, you must promise to return to Ixia.”

He grinned. “Why would I do that? I’m beginning to enjoy the climate. I might build a summer home here.”

“It’s that cocky attitude that got you into trouble in the first place.”

“No, love. It was you. If you hadn’t gotten yourself captured by Goel, I wouldn’t have tipped my hand to the Wannabe King.”

“You didn’t tip your hand. I’m afraid I did that when I was fighting with Cahil.”

“Defending my honor again?” he asked.

Back in Ixia, I had inadvertently exposed one of his undercover operations by standing up for him. “Yes.”

He shook his head in amazement. “I know you love me, so you can stop proving it. I really don’t care what Wannabe King thinks of me.”

I thought about Cahil. “Valek, I’m sorry for believing you killed Goel.”

He waved away my apology. “You would have been right. I went back to take care of him for you, but he had beaten me to it.” Valek’s angular features grew serious. “The Wannabe King remains a problem.”

I nodded. “One that I’ll deal with.”

“Now who’s cocky?”

I started to protest, but Valek stopped me with a kiss. When he pulled away, I noticed that Kiki’s head was up and her ears pointed forward.

Smell? I asked her. Then I heard the sound of hoof beats, heading toward us.

Rusalka, Kiki said. Sad Man.

My first reaction was annoyance that Leif had followed us. But the thought that, if he could find us, then so could Cahil filled me with apprehension.

Anyone else? I asked.

No.

Valek disappeared into the tall grass just as Leif’s horse seemed to materialize from a cloud of dust.

Leif’s green eyes were wide with shock. “She’s never done that before.”

My annoyance transformed to amusement. Rusalka’s black coat gleamed with sweat, but she didn’t appear to be stressed.

“I call that Kiki’s gust-of-wind gait,” I told Leif. “Is Rusalka a sandseed horse?”

He nodded. Before he could say another word, I saw a blur of motion to his left as Valek leaped out of the grass and knocked Leif from his horse. They landed together with Valek on top of Leif’s chest. He held Leif’s machete to Leif’s throat as my brother struggled to get his breath.

“What are you doing here?” Valek asked.

“Come. To find. Yelena,” Leif said between gasps.

“Why?”

By this time, I’d recovered from my surprise. “It’s all right, Valek. He’s my brother.”

Valek moved the blade away, but remained on top of him. Leif’s face twisted into an expression of astonished terror.

“Valek? You have no smell. No aura,” Leif said.

“Is he a simpleton?” Valek asked me.

I grinned. “No.” I pulled Valek from Leif. “His magic can sense a person’s soul. Your immunity must be blocking his power.” I bent over Leif and examined him, looking for broken bones with my magic. I didn’t find any serious injuries.

“Are you all right?” I asked Leif.

He sat up and glanced nervously at Valek. “That depends.”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s overprotective.”

Valek harrumphed. “If you could keep out of trouble for one day, protecting you wouldn’t be so instinctive.” He rubbed his leg. “Or so painful.”

Leif had recovered from his shock and stood.

My annoyance returned. “Why are you here?” I asked.

He looked at Valek then at the ground. “It was something Mother said.”

I waited.

“She told me that you were lost again. And only the brother that had searched for you for fourteen years could find you.”

“How did you find me?”

Leif gestured a bit wildly at his horse. “Kiki had found Topaz in the plains, so I thought, since Rusalka was bred by the Sandseeds, I asked her to find Kiki. And…And…”

“She found us very fast.” I mulled over what Leif had said about our mother. “Why does Perl think I’m lost? And why send you? You weren’t any help the last time.” Now, I had to suppress the urge to punch him. He had almost killed me with his machete at Ferde’s house.

Leif cringed with guilt. “I don’t know why she sent me.”

I was about to tell him to go home, when Moon Man walked into sight. “A good guy,” I said to Valek before he could attack him.

“This seems to be quite the meeting place,” Valek muttered under his breath.

When Moon Man came closer, I asked, “No mysterious arrival? No coalescing from a sunray? Where’s the paint?” The scars on his arms and legs stood out against his dark skin, and he wore a pair of short pants.

“It is no fun when you already know those tricks,” Moon Man said. “Besides, Ghost would have killed me if I had suddenly appeared.”

“Ghost?” I asked.

Moon Man pointed to Valek. “Kiki’s name for him. It makes sense,” he said, seeing the look of confusion on my face. “To magical beings, we see the world through our magic. We see him with our eyes, but cannot see him with our magic. So he is like a ghost to us.”

Valek listened to Moon Man. Although expressionless, I could tell by the rigid set to Valek’s shoulders that he was prepared to strike.

“Another relative?” Valek asked.

A broad smile stretched Moon Man’s lips. “Yes. I am her mother’s uncle’s wife’s third cousin.”

“He’s a Story Weaver, a magician of the Sandseed clan,” I explained. “And what are you doing here?”

Moon Man’s playfulness faded from his face. “You are on my lands. I could ask you the same thing, but I already know why you have come. I came to make sure you keep your promise.”

“What promise?” Leif and Valek asked at the same time.

I waved the question away. “I will, but not now. We need—”

“I know what you intend to do. You will not succeed with that unless you untangle yourself,” Moon Man said.

“Me? But I thought you said…” I stopped. He had made me promise to untie Leif, but then I remembered that Moon Man had said our lives twisted together. But what did helping Leif have to do with going after Alea? “Why won’t I succeed?” I asked.

Moon Man refused to answer.

“Do you have any more cryptic advice?” I asked.

He held out his hands. One toward Leif and the other to me.

Valek huffed in either amusement or annoyance, I couldn’t tell, but he said, “Looks like a family affair. I’ll be close by if you need me, love.”

I studied Leif. His reaction to the Story Weaver the last time we had met him had been one of fear. Now, he stepped forward and grabbed Moon Man’s hand, shooting me a look of stubborn determination.

“Let’s finish this,” Leif said, challenging me.

35

I SLID MY HAND INTO MOON Man’s. My world melted as the warm magic of the Story Weaver took control of my senses.

We traveled to the Illiais Jungle to the place Leif had hidden while watching Mogkan kidnap me over fourteen years ago. The three of us viewed the events through Leif’s eyes and felt his emotions. In essence, becoming him.

A mean approval that Yelena got what she deserved for not staying close to him spiked Leif’s heart. But when the strange man put her to sleep, and pulled his pack and sword from under a bush, sudden fear of getting taken by the man kept Leif in his hiding place. He stayed there long after the man had carried his sister away.

Moon Man manipulated the story’s thread for a moment, showing Leif and me what would have happened if Leif had tried to rescue me. The ring of steel rolled through the jungle as Mogkan pulled his sword from its scabbard and stabbed Leif in the heart, killing him. Remaining hidden had been a good decision.

The story then changed and focused on Perl and Esau’s despair and anger when Leif had finally told them that I was lost. Leif believed he would be in worse trouble if he had told them the truth and they knew he hadn’t done anything to stop the man. Leif had been convinced that the search parties would find the man and his sister. Already he felt jealous of the attention she would get for just being rescued.

When the search parties failed to find her, Leif began his own quest. He knew they lived in the jungle, keeping out of sight just to spite him. He had to find her, and maybe his mother and father would love him again.

As the years passed, his guilt drove him to attempt suicide, and, eventually, the guilt transformed into hatred. When she finally came back into their lives stinking of blood and of the north, he wanted to kill her. Especially when he saw for the first time in fourteen years the pure joy on his mother’s face.

Cahil’s ambush, while unexpected, gave Leif a receptive audience about the need to get rid of the northern spy. But watching her get hurt caused a small rip of concern in his black cloak of hate.

Her escape from Cahil was proof he had been right about her, but then she came back, insisting she wasn’t a spy and therefore would not run away like one. Roze then confirmed her claims, puzzling Leif.

His confusion and conflicting emotions only grew when he saw her try to help Tula. Why would she care about another? She hadn’t cared about him or how he suffered while she was gone. He wanted to keep hating her, but when she struggled to bring Tula back, he couldn’t bear the guilt if he stood by and did nothing again.

When they traveled to the plains and Story Weaver approached, Leif had known his sister would discover the truth about him. He ran, unable to face the accusations that would fill her eyes. But when he calmed, he thought, would the truth be that difficult for her? She weathered so much in Ixia. Perhaps she could overcome this hurdle, too.

But after she had returned from the plains, Leif knew it was impossible. Her anger and censure flamed on her skin. She didn’t want him or need him. Only his mother’s pleas that he help his sister made him seek her out.

Story Weaver let the strands of the tale fade. The three of us stood on that dark plain I remembered from my last encounter with Moon Man. His coloring matched a ray of moonlight. Leif glanced around with wonder.

“Why did Mother ask you to help me rescue Gelsi?” I asked Leif.

“She thought I could assist you in some way. Instead, I had tried to—”

“Kill me? You can join the ‘I Want to Kill Yelena Guild.’ I hear they have six members in good standing. Valek is president since he had wanted to kill me twice.” I smiled, but Leif stared at me with guilt in his eyes. “It wasn’t you. Ferde tapped into your memories and used them.”

“I did want to kill you before you helped Tula.” Leif hung his head.

“Don’t feel ashamed for having those feelings and those memories. What happened in the past can’t be changed, but they can be a guide for what happens in your future.”

Moon Man radiated approval. “We could make a Story Weaver out of you if you were not already a Soulfinder.” He flashed me a wide smile.

“Truly?” How many people would I need to hear it from before I believed it or felt it? Perhaps it would be best not to declare myself a Soulfinder and just be regular old Yelena.

Moon Man raised an eyebrow. “Come visit me when you are ready.”

Then the world spun and I shut my eyes against the feelings of vertigo. When they stopped, I opened them, finding myself back in the plains with Leif. Moon Man was talking to Valek.

I digested what happened on the stony plain. Leif had been in the process of untying himself. His road had smoothed when he made the decision to help me with Tula. So why had Moon Man asked me to help him? I looked for the Story Weaver, but he had disappeared.

Then the answer came to me, and, along with it, my own guilt. Without truly understanding Leif, I had treated him badly, holding the actions of an eight-year-old boy against a grown man and failing to see how he tried to amend them.

Leif watched me.

“How come they never schedule a New Beginnings feast when you really need to start over?” I asked.

Leif smiled at me. The first genuine one since I had returned from Ixia. It warmed me to the core of my soul.

“That’s okay. I don’t dance,” he said.

“You will,” I promised.

Valek cleared his throat. “Touching as this is, we need to go. Your Story Weaver is providing us with some soldiers to aid against Alea’s people. We’re to rendezvous with them at dawn. I take it your brother…”

“Leif.” I filled in.

“…is coming along?”

“Of course,” Leif said.

“No,” I said at the same time. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Mother wouldn’t like it.”

“And I wouldn’t be able to face her wrath if I didn’t stay and help.” Leif crossed his arms over his chest. His square jaw set into a stubborn line.

“Your mother sounds like a formidable woman,” Valek said into the silence.

“You have no idea,” Leif replied with a sigh.

“Well, if she’s anything like Yelena, my deepest sympathies,” Valek teased.

“Hey!”

Leif laughed and the tense moment dissipated.

Valek handed Leif his machete. “Do you know how to use it?”

“Of course. I chopped Yelena’s bow into firewood,” Leif joked.

“You took me by surprise. I didn’t want to hurt you,” I shot back.

Leif looked dubious.

“How about a rematch?”

“Anytime.”

Valek stepped between us. “I’m beginning to wish that you were an orphan, love. Can you both manage to focus on the task at hand without trying to catch up on fourteen years of sibling rivalry?”

“Yes,” we said in unison, properly chastised.

“Good. Then let’s go.”

“Where?” I asked.

“In keeping with his cryptic nature, all your Story Weaver said was, ‘The horses know where to go.’” Valek shrugged. “It’s certainly not a military strategy I would use, but I’ve learned that the south uses its own strategy. And, strangely enough, it works.”

The horses did know where to go, and, as the sun rose over the plains, we encountered a group of Sandseed soldiers on a rocky outcropping surrounded by tall grass. A dozen men and six women dressed in leather armor and equipped with either scimitars or spears waited. They had painted red streaks on their faces and arms, creating an impressively fierce countenance.

There were no other horses. Valek and I jumped off Kiki and Leif dismounted Rusalka to join us. The two horses began to graze. I shivered in the cold morning air, feeling naked without my bow, wishing I had another weapon besides my switchblade.

Moon Man greeted us. He had dressed like his clansmen, but he was armed with his scimitar and a bow. The bow he held was no ordinary staff of ebony wood. It had been carved with symbols and animals, revealing a gold-colored wood under the black surface. And I felt that, if I could just stare at it long enough, the carvings may reveal a story. I shook my head, trying to stay focused on Moon Man’s words.

“I sent a scout last night,” Moon Man said. “He found the blood-letting apparatus in the Void just as Yelena described. Then he tracked the Daviian Vermin to a campsite about a mile east of that location. We are on the edge of the plains about two miles north of that site.”

“We’ll wait until dark and launch a surprise attack,” Valek said.

“That will not work,” Moon Man said. “The Vermin have a shield that will alert them to intruders. My scout could not get too close to their camp for fear of discovery.” Moon Man appeared to scan the horizon. “They have strong Warpers, who can hide their whereabouts from our magic.”

“Warpers?” Leif asked.

Moon Man frowned. “Magicians. I refuse to call them Story Weavers for they manipulate the threads for their own selfish desires.”

I glanced at the group of Sandseeds, noting again the array of weapons. “You don’t plan to use your magic?”

“No.”

“And you don’t plan to take prisoners?”

“That is not the Sandseed way. The Vermin must be exterminated.”

I wanted to neutralize the threat of Alea, but I didn’t want to kill her. Esau’s vial of Curare still remained in my backpack. Perhaps I could paralyze her and take her back to the Keep’s cells.

“How are you going to prevent the Daviians from using their magic?” Valek asked.

A dangerous glint flashed in Moon Man’s eyes. “We move the Void.”

“You can do that?” I asked, surprised.

“The blanket of power can be repositioned only with the utmost care. We will center the blanket’s hole directly over the Vermin’s camp and then we will attack.”

“When?” Valek asked.

“Now.” Moon Man walked over to his soldiers.

“I’d hoped to use the Sandseeds as a distraction,” Valek said to me in a low whisper. “This will work. Once Alea is dead, we leave. This isn’t our fight.”

“I think capture and incarceration would be a harsher punishment for her,” I said.

Valek studied me for a moment. “As you wish.”

Moon Man’s group shouted a war cry, then disappeared into the tall grass. He came back to us. “They will position themselves around the camp. The signal to attack will be when the Void is in place. You are to come with me.” He glanced at the three of us. “You need weapons. Here.”

He tossed his bow to me. I caught it in my right hand.

“That is yours. A gift from Suekray.”

“Who?”

“A horsewoman of our clan. You must have made an impression on her. Her gifts are as rare as the snow. Your story is etched into it.”

Mother, Kiki said with approval. And I remembered the short-haired Sandseed woman who had taken Kiki for a ride the day I had met with the elders.

I marveled at the bow. The balance and thickness felt perfect in my hand, and, despite the carvings, the black wood remained smooth and strong. By the time I pulled my eyes from the beauty of the bow, I saw that Valek clutched a scimitar and Leif wielded his machete.

“Let us go.”

I took off my cloak and made a few quick preparations before we followed Moon Man into the tall grass.

From our position near the Daviian camp, I could see some activity around their tents and campfire. The air hovering over their site seemed to shimmer and it distorted the images of the people inside as if a massive pocket of heat had been trapped over them.

The grasses of the plateau grew in small clumps and had turned brown from lack of rain. I crouched with Valek behind a small bush. Leif and Moon Man were five hundred feet to our right huddled in a slight depression. I wondered how the other Sandseeds had fared in finding hiding spots. The Daviians had chosen a wide-open area for their camp and cover was minimal.

I felt the hair raise on my arms as power pressed against my skin. Seeking out with my awareness, I felt Moon Man and three other magicians tug the blanket of power. They applied equal pressure so the blanket would not gather in one location, but would move smoothly. Their magical abilities impressed me, and I thought, if I did stay in Sitia, the Sandseeds would make powerful teachers.

The Void’s arrival felt like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. My awareness of my surroundings reduced to the mundane senses of sight, smell and sound. Before I could adapt to my magical loss, another war cry sounded. The signal to attack the camp.

I jumped to my feet and followed Valek toward the camp. And stopped dead in my tracks when the scene in front of me registered in my mind.

The Daviians shield had been destroyed and, with it, the illusion. Instead of a few people milling about the campfire, there stood over thirty. Instead of a handful of tents, there were rows and rows of them. Granted most of the Vermin stared in shock at the loss of their magic, but we were outnumbered four to one.

Too late to retreat. We had the element of surprise and nineteen battle-thirsty Sandseeds, who cut wide bloody swaths through the Daviians. I could see Moon Man’s bald head above the fighting, and Leif’s powerful strikes kept a couple Daviians busy. Valek shot me a grim look. Find Alea, he mouthed to me before joining in the fray.

Great, I thought, edging around the outskirts of the battle. Find Alea in this mass of confusion. I ducked as a Daviian swung his scythe at me. I swept his feet from under him and hopped onto his chest before he could raise his long weapon. Ramming the end of my bow into his neck, I crushed his windpipe.

I paused for a heartbeat. He was the first person I killed since coming to Sitia. I had hoped never to take a life again, but if I wanted to survive this melee, I couldn’t afford to be compassionate.

Another Daviian attacked. My melancholy thoughts disappeared as I defended myself and searched for Alea. Dodging and fighting, I lost all track of time as the series of matches began to blur together. In the end, Alea found me.

Her long black hair had been pulled back into a knot and she wore a simple white tunic and pants that were splattered with blood. She held a bloody short sword in each hand. Alea smiled at me.

“I planned to find you,” she said. “How nice that you saved me the trouble.”

“That’s just how I am, always thinking of others.”

She crossed her swords in a mock salute and lunged. I stepped back, and brought my bow down on the top of her blades, deflecting them toward the ground. She took a step forward to regain her balance just as I shuffled closer to her. We touched shoulders. Our weapons pointed down.

But mine remained on top. I yanked the bow up, hitting her in the face. She yelped as blood gushed from her nose. My strike failed to stop her, and she tried to swing her swords toward my stomach. I moved next to her; too close for large weapons. We dropped them.

I triggered my switchblade as she pulled a knife from her belt. She turned and stabbed at me. I blocked her blade with my arm. Pain burned as the knife bit into my flesh, but the move allowed me to grab her hand. I pulled her toward me and sliced her forearm with my blade then released her.

Alea staggered back in confusion. I could have plunged my knife into her stomach, killing her. Her expression turned to horror as she realized what I had done.

My switchblade had been treated with Curare. All I had needed to do was prick her skin with the tip of the weapon. When she fell to the ground, I stood over her.

“It’s not fun being helpless. Is it?” I asked.

I looked around. Valek had maneuvered himself so that he stayed between me and the Daviians, keeping the others from interfering with my fight with Alea. Leif fought a short distance away, hacking with his machete. I couldn’t see the other Sandseeds, but I spotted Moon Man just as he took a man’s head off with his scimitar. Yuck.

Moon Man sprinted for us. “Time to retreat,” he called.

“Next time,” I said to Alea. “We’ll finish this.”

Then the Void moved and the magic came back for half of the campsite, creating a diversion. We were bathed in power, and I felt Moon Man encompass us in a shield of protective magic as we began our retreat. Valek, though, paused over Alea’s still form. He knelt beside her, picked up her knife, and said something to her.

Before I could call to him, he cut her throat in one smooth move. It was the same lethal strike that he had delivered to her brother, Mogkan.

When Valek caught up to me he said, “We can’t afford to play favorites.”

We raced back toward the plains. The Vermins ceased chasing us at the border of the Avibian Plains, but we kept our pace until we reached the rocky outcropping where Kiki and Rusalka waited.

“No doubt they will move their camp farther into the plateau,” Moon Man said. The effort of running had not winded him, although his skin gleamed with sweat. “I will need to bring more soldiers. To have deceived my scout and me means their Warpers are more powerful than we suspected. I must consult with the elders.”

Moon Man inclined his head in farewell and I soon lost sight of him in the grass.

“What now?” Leif asked.

I met Valek’s gaze. What now, indeed.

“You go home and so will I,” I said to Leif.

“You’re coming with me to the Keep?” Leif asked.

“I…” Back to the Keep and to the feelings of isolation? Back to being feared for my abilities? Or back to spy on Sitia so I could eventually return to Ixia? Or just being on my own, exploring Sitia and spending time with my family?

“I think you’re afraid to go back to the Keep,” Leif said.

“What?”

“It will be much easier for you to stay away, and not have to deal with being a Soulfinder, being a daughter and being a sister.”

“I’m not afraid.” I had tried to find a place in Sitia, but I kept getting pushed away. How many hints did I need? I wasn’t a glutton for punishment. What if they decided that a Soulfinder equaled evil and they burned me alive for violating their Ethical Code?

“You are afraid.” Leif challenged.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Then prove it.”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Finally, I said, “I hate you.”

Leif smiled. “The feeling is mutual.” He paused for a moment. “Are you coming?”

“Not now. I’ll think about it.” It was a delay tactic and Leif knew it.

“If you don’t come back to the Keep, then I’ll be right. And every time you see me, I’ll be insufferably smug.”

“And how’s that different from now?”

He laughed and I could see the young carefree boy he had been in his eyes. “You’ve only had a small glimpse of how insufferable and annoying I can be. As the older brother, it’s my birthright.”

Leif mounted Rusalka and galloped away.

Valek and I walked with Kiki toward the north. Toward Ixia. He held my hand and I felt content as my thoughts mulled over the last few hours.

“Valek. What did you say to Alea?”

“I told her how her brother had died.”

I remembered how I had trapped Mogkan with magic, immobilizing him so Valek could cut his throat. Alea died the exact same way.

“We had no time to take Alea with us, love. I wasn’t going to let her have another chance to hurt you.”

“How do you always know when I need you?”

Valek’s eyes flamed with an intensity that I had rarely seen. “I know. It’s part of me like hunger or thirst. A need that must be met to survive.”

“How do you do it? I can’t connect my mind to yours with my magic. And you don’t have magic. It should be impossible.”

Valek remained quiet for a moment. “Perhaps, when I feel your distress, I relax my guard and allow you to connect with me?”

“Perhaps. Have you ever done that for anyone else?”

“No, love. You’re the only one who has caused me to do the oddest things. You have truly poisoned me.”

I laughed. “Odd, eh?”

“It’s a good thing you can’t read my mind, love.”

A sapphire-blue fire smoked in his eyes, and I noticed a tightening in his lean muscles.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking.” I stepped into his arms, putting my hands under his waistband to where his thoughts had traveled, making my point.

“I can’t. Hide. From you,” Valek panted.

I heard Kiki snort and move away as my world filled with the feel and smell and taste of Valek.

Valek and I spent the next several days walking the plains and enjoying being together without any worries or problems hovering over our heads. We would discover small caches of food and water along our path. And while I didn’t have the feeling that someone watched us, I felt that the Sandseeds knew where we were, and the provisions were their way of extending their hospitality to a distant cousin.

Eventually, we left the plains. Skirting east of the Citadel, we headed north through the Featherstone clan’s lands. Careful to travel at night and hide during the day, it took us three days to reach the Ambassador’s retinue.

I had lost track of the days and been surprised to see their camp, but Valek had known they would be about a half-day’s walk to the Ixian border. After determining where the Sitian “spies” hid, Valek changed into his Ilom disguise, and slipped into the camp in the middle of the night. I waited and approached the next day. There was no reason for me to hide, and, if I went back to Ixia, the Sitian spies could report back to the Keep and the Council that I had left.

The Ixians had begun to pack up their equipment when I rode in on Kiki. One tent still stood, but Ari and Janco rushed over to greet me before I could reach it.

“Didn’t I tell you, Ari? She’s come to say goodbye after all. And you were pouting and miserable for days,” Janco said.

Ari just rolled his eyes, and I knew if anyone was miserable it was Janco.

“Or have you decided that you can’t bear to be parted from us and are going to disguise yourself as a soldier and come back to Ixia?” Janco’s smile was hopeful.

“Beating you in a bow fight every day is really tempting, Janco.”

He scoffed. “I know your tricks now. I won’t be so easy to beat.”

“Are you sure you want me to come? I have a tendency to cause trouble.”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” Janco said. “Life has been so dull without you.”

Ari shook his massive head. “We don’t need any more trouble. The diplomatic niceties started falling apart between the Ambassador and the Sitian Council toward the end. Before we left, one of the Councilors had accused the Ambassador of bringing Valek to Sitia to assassinate the Council.”

“Not good,” I said. “The Sitians are constantly worried the Commander will want to take control of their lands. And I would be, too, knowing that Valek possessed the skills to assassinate the Councilors as well as the Master Magicians, creating enough chaos so there is little resistance to an Ixian attack.”

I shook my head, sighing. The Ixians and Sitians viewed the world so differently. They needed someone to help them understand each other. A strange feeling churned in my stomach. Fear? Excitement? Nausea? Perhaps all three; it was hard to tell.

“Speaking of Valek,” Janco said, “I take it he’s well?”

“You know Valek,” I said.

Janco nodded, grinning.

“I’d better talk to the Ambassador.” I slid off Kiki. Before I could move, Ari’s large hand grabbed my arm.

“Just make sure you say goodbye to Janco,” Ari said. “You think he’s annoying when he’s in a good mood; he’s worse when he’s in a bad mood.”

I promised Ari, but as I walked to the Ambassador’s tent, that odd feeling in the pit of my stomach became almost painful. Goodbye seemed so final.

One of the two guards outside the tent ducked inside to announce me. He came out and held the flap for me to enter. Ambassador Signe sat at a canvas table, drinking tea with Valek still dressed as Adviser Ilom. Signe dismissed him and I caught a look and the word “tonight” from Valek before he left the tent.

Bypassing the pleasantries, Signe asked, “Have you decided if you’re going to visit us?”

I took the Commander Ambrose’s order of execution from my pack. My hand trembled slightly and I took a breath to steady my nerves. “With this unfortunate clash of opinions between Ixia and Sitia, I believe you both will need a liaison. A neutral party who knows both countries and can facilitate negotiations, assisting them in understanding each other better.” Meaning I wouldn’t spy for Ixia, but I offered to help. I handed Signe the order. The Commander must decide what to do with it.

And there he stood in Signe’s uniform, studying me with his powerful gold eyes. I blinked several times. The transformation from Signe to Commander Ambrose was so complete that I could only see a faint resemblance to the Ambassador in his face.

The Commander rolled up the execution order and tapped it on his palm as his gaze grew distant. Considering all the options, I thought, he never made a hasty decision.

“A valid point,” he said.

He stood and paced the small area. I saw a bedroll on the floor behind him and a lantern. The tent and table appeared to be his only luxuries.

Commander Ambrose stopped then tore my execution order into small pieces, sprinkling them onto the ground. Turning, he held out his hand to me. “Agreed, Liaison Yelena.”

“Liaison Yelena Zaltana,” I corrected as we shook hands.

We discussed the Commander’s plans for Ixia and how he wanted to expand trade with Sitia. He insisted I finish my magical training before becoming the official liaison. Before I left, I witnessed Ambassador Signe’s return. It was then that I felt, for a brief moment, that two souls resided within one body. That would explain why he had been so successful at keeping his secret.

I mulled over the interesting idea to keep my mind off the startling fact that I was going to return to the Keep. The Ambassador’s retinue finished packing. I told Ari and Janco that I would see them again.

“Next time, your ass is mine,” Janco sang.

“Keep your skills sharp,” Ari ordered.

“It was bad enough having two mothers, now I have two fathers,” I teased.

“Send word if you need us,” Ari said.

“Yes, sir.”

I headed south as the Ixians traveled north. Pulling a thread of magic, I projected my awareness. One of the Sitian spies followed me in hopes that I would meet up with Valek. I sent the man a confusing array of images until he lost all sense of what he was supposed to do.

Remembering Valek’s promise, I didn’t travel too far. I found an empty wooded area between two farms and set up a small campsite. As the sunlight faded, I projected my awareness into the surrounding woods. A few bats began to wake and a couple rabbits crept through the underbrush. All was quiet except for the steady approach of Cahil and his men.

He didn’t try to mask his movements. Bold and cocky, Cahil left his men guarding the edge of the wood while he continued toward me. I sighed, more annoyed than scared, and reached for my bow.

I glanced around. Nowhere to hide on the ground, although the tree canopy might offer some protection. It might work except Marrok waited with Cahil’s men. And I was certain the Captain’s tracking skills had led Cahil to me. I would have to resort to using magic in my defense. Projecting, I reached toward Cahil’s mind.

His emotions boiled with hate, but he had tempered them with a cold calculation. He stopped at the edge of my camp and inclined his head. “May I join you?”

“It depends on your intentions,” I said.

“I thought you could read my intentions.” He paused. “I see you have decided to stay in Sitia. A bold move considering the Council will know about your involvement with Valek.”

“I’m not a spy, Cahil. And the Council needs a liaison with Ixia.”

He barked out a laugh. “You’re a liaison now? That’s funny. Do you really think the Council will trust you?”

“Do you think the Council will go to war for a commoner?”

Cahil sobered for a moment. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction where his men waited. “I will find out the truth about that. But it really doesn’t matter to me anymore. I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.”

Even though he hadn’t moved, I could feel a renewed sense of threat from him. “Why are you telling me this? You know you can’t get to Valek through me. Besides, he’s back in Ixia by now.”

He shook his head. “As if I would believe you. A beautiful day for riding and you stop here?” He gestured to the surrounding woods then took two steps toward me. “I’m here to give you a warning.” Another step.

I brandished my bow. “Stop right there.”

“You once said you thought Goel was decent for warning you about his intentions. I thought I would do the same. I know I can’t beat you or Valek—even my men don’t have a chance—but someone, somewhere has that ability. I’ll swear I’ll find him and, together, we’ll make it our mission to see you and Valek dead.” With that, Cahil spun around and headed for his men.

I didn’t relax my grip on my bow until Cahil mounted Topaz and rode away. His men followed behind, running to keep up. As I broke my connection with Cahil’s mind, I dipped into Marrok’s mind. He was scared and worried about Cahil’s odd behavior. That made two of us.

That night, my campfire seemed lonely until Valek arrived. He appeared by the fireside, warming his hands over the flames. I decided not to ruin our last night together by telling him about Cahil’s visit.

“Forgot your cloak again?” I asked.

He smiled. “I like sharing yours.”

Long after the fire had died, I fell asleep wrapped in Valek’s arms. When the sun intruded, I burrowed deeper under my cloak.

“Come with me,” Valek said.

It wasn’t a plea or an order. An invitation.

Regret ached in my heart. “I still have much to learn. And when I’m ready, I’ll be the new liaison between Ixia and Sitia.”

“That could lead to serious trouble,” Valek teased.

“You would be bored if it was any other way.”

He laughed. “You’re right. And so was my snake.”

“Snake?”

He pulled my arm out to expose my bracelet. “When I carved this, my thoughts were on you, love. Your life is like this snake’s coils. No matter how many turns it makes, you’ll end up back where you belong. With me.” His sapphire eyes held a promise. “I’ll look forward to your first official visit. But don’t wait too long. Please.”

“I won’t.”

After another kiss, Valek rose and, as he dressed, I told him about Cahil.

“Many have tried to kill us. All have failed.” He shrugged. “We’ve thrown him a curve. Either he’ll sulk over his lack of royal blood and disappear, or he’ll make himself believe we lied and will have a renewed determination to attack Ixia, which should make life interesting for the new liaison.”

“Interesting isn’t the word I would use.”

“Make sure you keep a close eye on him.” Valek smiled ruefully. “I have to go, love. I promised the Ambassador I would catch up to her at the border. If there is going to be any trouble from the Sitians it would be near there.”

I regretted my decision to stay the moment he left and utter loneliness overcame me. But Kiki’s cold nose against my cheek intruded on my morose thoughts.

Kiki stay with Lavender Lady, she said. Kiki help.

Yes, you’re a big help.

Smart.

Smarter than me, I agreed.

Apple?

You’ve grazed all night. How can you still be hungry?

Always room for apple.

I laughed and fed her an apple before we began our two-day trip back to the Keep.

When I arrived at the Keep’s gate, the guard instructed me to go directly to the Master’s meeting room. As I gave Kiki a quick rubdown at the stables, I wondered what had been going on in my absence.

Students hurried from one building to the next as an icy wind blew through the campus. They gave me only a fleeting surprised glance before increasing their pace. The gray sky darkened and sleet cut through the air. An ominous start to the cold season. I pulled my hood up to protect my face.

I had arrived in Sitia at the beginning of the hot season. The two seasons I had lived here felt more like two years.

When I entered the conference room, three neutral expressions and one livid greeted my arrival. Roze threw a ball of furious energy at me. It hit me square on the chest, and I stumbled back before deflecting her attack. Pulling power to me, I projected my awareness toward her. Her mental defenses were impenetrable, but I aimed lower. Through her heart and into her soul. A much more vulnerable spot.

Now, now, I said. Play nice.

She jumped. What? How?

I have found your soul, Roze. It’s dark and nasty in here. You’ve been hanging around those criminal types too long. You better change your ways or this soul won’t fly to the sky.

Her amber eyes burned into mine with all the hate and loathing she could muster. Underneath, though, she was terrified. Hate and loathing didn’t bother me, but fear was a powerful emotion. Fear causes the dog to bite and Roze was one bitch.

I released her. Roze sputtered and glared at me with a poisonous gaze. I stared back with calm patience. Eventually, she stormed from the room.

“So it is true,” Bain said into the sudden silence. “You are a Soulfinder.” He seemed more thoughtful than scared.

“What made her so upset?” I asked.

Irys gestured for me to sit down. I sank into one of the plush chairs.

“Roze thinks you and Valek are part of a plot to assassinate the Council.” Before I could respond, Irys went on, “There’s no proof. But what is more alarming is Ferde’s escape from the Keep’s cells.”

I jumped to my feet. “Ferde escaped? When? Where?”

Irys exchanged a knowing glance with Bain. “I told you she had nothing to do with his release,” she said to him. Then to me, “We’re not sure when. He was discovered missing this morning.” Irys gave me a wry grin. “We think Cahil rescued him.”

“Cahil?” Now I was confused.

“He is gone. Captain Marrok was found brutally beaten. Once Marrok regained consciousness, he told us Cahil had tortured him until Marrok had told him the truth.” Irys stopped, shaking her head in astonishment.

“That Cahil doesn’t have royal blood,” I said.

“You knew?” Zitora asked. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I suspected. But Valek just confirmed my suspicions.”

“Marrok told us that Cahil’s mother had died in childbirth and he was the son of a soldier slain during the Ixian takeover. When they fled to Sitia, they took him along,” Irys explained.

“Where is he now?” I asked.

“We don’t know,” Irys said. “And we don’t know what his plans are now that he has learned the truth, and why he took Ferde with him.”

So much for Valek’s sulk-and-do-nothing theory about Cahil’s reaction to his origins. “I guess, we’ll just have to find him and ask,” I said.

“But not yet,” Irys said, and sighed. “The Council is a mess. Since you released all those souls, Ferde is weak and will be unable to do any magic for quite some time. And…” She hesitated, and I had the unpleasant feeling that I wasn’t going to like what she said next. “They want you to explore your Soulfinder capabilities and perhaps become a Council Adviser.”

Discovering my abilities matched my own wishes, but if I wanted to be a neutral liaison, I couldn’t be attached to the Council in any capacity.

“They don’t need a Council Adviser,” I said. “They need a liaison with Ixia.”

“I know,” Irys said.

“We should go after Ferde and Cahil today.”

“I know. You’ll just have to convince the Council of that.”

I stared at Irys. My Story Weaver had to be laughing his blue ass off right now. My future appeared to be a long twisted road fraught with knots, tangles, and traps.

Just the way I liked it.

Fire Study

Maria V. Snyder

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

1

“THAT’S PATHETIC, YELENA,” Dax complained. “An all-powerful Soulfinder who isn’t all-powerful. Where’s the fun in that?” He threw up his long thin arms in mock frustration.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not the one who attached the ‘all-powerful’ to the title.” I pulled a black strand of hair from my eyes. Dax and I had been working on expanding my magical abilities without success. As we practiced on the ground floor of Irys’s Keep tower—well, mine too, since she has given me three floors to use—I tried not to let my own aggravation interfere with the lessons.

Dax was attempting to teach me how to move objects with magic. He had rearranged the furniture, lined up the plush armchairs in neat rows and turned the couch over on its side with his power. My efforts to restore Irys’s cozy layout and to stop an end table from chasing me failed. Though not from lack of trying—my shirt clung to my sweaty skin.

A sudden chill shook me. Despite a small fire in the hearth, the rugs and the closed shutters, the living room was icy. The white marble walls, while wonderful during the hot season, sucked all the heat from the air throughout the cold season. I imagined the room’s warmth following the stone’s green veins and escaping outside.

Dax Greenblade, my friend, tugged his tunic down. Tall and lean, his physique matched a typical Greenblade Clan member. He reminded me of a blade of grass, including a sharp edge—his tongue.

“Obviously you have no ability to move objects, so let’s try fire. Even a baby can light a fire!” Dax placed a candle on the table.

“A baby? Now you’re really exaggerating. Again.” A person’s ability to access the power source and perform magic manifested at puberty.

“Details. Details.” Dax waved a hand as if shooing a fly. “Now concentrate on lighting this candle.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. So far, all my efforts on inanimate items were for naught. I could heal my friend’s body, hear his thoughts and even see his soul, but when I reached for a thread of magic and tried to use it to move a chair, nothing happened.

Dax held up three tan fingers. “Three reasons why you should be able to do this. One, you’re powerful. Two, you’re tenacious. And three, you’ve beat Ferde, the Soulstealer.”

Who had escaped, and was free to start another soul-stealing spree. “Reminding me of Ferde is helping me how…?”

“It’s supposed to be a pep talk. Do you want me to list all the heroic deeds you’ve—”

“No. Let’s get on with the lesson.” The last thing I wanted was to hear Dax recite the latest gossip. The news about my being a Soulfinder had spread through the Magician’s Keep like dandelion seeds carried by a strong wind. And I still couldn’t think about the title without a cringe of doubt, worry and fear touching my heart.

I pushed all distracting thoughts aside and connected to the power source. The power blanketed the world, but only magicians could pull threads of magic from it to use. I gathered a strand to me and directed it to the candle, willing a flame to form.

Nothing.

“Try harder,” Dax said.

Increasing the power, I aimed again.

Behind the candle, Dax’s face turned red and he sputtered as if suppressing a cough. A flash seared my eyes as the wick ignited.

“That’s rude.” His outraged expression was comical.

“You wanted it lit.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to do it for you!” He glanced around the room as if seeking the patience to deal with an unruly child. “Zaltanas and their weird powers, forcing me to light the candle. Pah! To think I wanted to live vicariously through your adventures.”

“Watch what you say about my clan. Or I’ll…” I cast about for a good threat.

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll tell Second Magician where you disappear to every time he pulls one of those old books off his shelf.” Bain was Dax’s mentor, and, while the Second Magician delighted in ancient history, Dax would rather learn the newest dance steps.

“Okay, okay. You win and you’ve proved your point. No ability to light a fire. I’ll stick to translating ancient languages.” Dax made a dour face. “And you stick to finding souls.” He teased, but I sensed an undercurrent to his words.

His uneasiness over my abilities was for excellent reasons. The last Soulfinder was born in Sitia about a hundred and fifty years ago. During his short life, he had turned his enemies into mindless slaves and almost succeeded in his quest to rule the country. Most Sitians didn’t react well to the news about another Soulfinder.

The awkward moment passed as a mischievous glint lit Dax’s bottle-green eyes. “I’d better go. I have to study. We have a history test tomorrow. Remember?”

I groaned, thinking of the large tome waiting for me.

“Your knowledge of Sitian history is also pathetic.”

“Two reasons.” I held up my fingers. “One, Ferde Daviian. Two, the Sitian Council.”

Dax gestured with his hand.

Before he could say anything, I said, “I know. Details, details.”

He smiled and wrapped his cloak around him, letting in a gust of arctic wind as he left. The flames in the hearth pulsed for a moment before settling. I drew closer, warming my hands over the fire. My thoughts returned to those two reasons.

Ferde was a member of the unsanctioned Daviian Clan, who were a renegade group of the Sandseed Clan. The Daviians wanted more from life than wandering the Avibian Plains and telling stories. On a power quest, Ferde had kidnapped and tortured twelve girls to steal their souls and increase his magical power. Valek and I had stopped him before he could complete his quest.

An ache for Valek pumped in my heart. I touched his butterfly pendant hanging from my neck. He had returned to Ixia a month ago, but I missed him more each day. Perhaps I should get myself into a life-threatening situation. He had a knack for showing up when I most needed him.

Unfortunately, those times were fraught with danger and there hadn’t been many chances to just be with each other. I longed to be assigned a boring diplomatic mission to Ixia.

The Sitian Council wouldn’t approve the trip until they decided what to do with me. Eleven clan leaders and four Master Magicians comprised the Council, and they had argued about my new role of Soulfinder all this past month. Of the four Masters, Irys Jewelrose, Fourth Magician, was my strongest supporter and Roze Featherstone, First Magician, was my strongest detractor.

I stared at the fire, following the dance of flames along the logs. My thoughts lingered on Roze. The randomness of the blaze stopped. The flames moved with a purpose, divided and gestured as if on a stage.

Odd. I blinked. Instead of returning to normal, the blaze grew until it filled my vision and blocked out the rest of the room. The bright patterns of color stabbed my eyes. I closed them, but the image remained. Apprehension rolled along my skin. Despite my strong mental barrier, a magician wove magic around me.

Caught, I watched as the fire scene transformed into a lifelike picture of me. Flame Me bent over a prone body. A soul rose from the body, which I then inhaled. The soulless body stood and Flame Me pointed to another figure. Turning, the body stalked the new person and then strangled him.

Alarmed, I tried to stop the fire vision to no avail. I was forced to observe myself make more soulless people, who all went on a massive killing spree. An opposing army attacked. Fire swords flashed. Flames of blood splattered. I would have been impressed with the magician’s level of artistic detail if I hadn’t been horrified by the blazing carnage.

In time, my army was extinguished and I was caught in a net of fire. Flame Me was dragged, chained to a post and doused with oil.

I snapped back to my body. Standing next to the hearth, I still felt the web of magic around me. It contracted and tiny flames erupted on my clothes.

And spread.

I couldn’t stop the advance with my power. Cursing my lack of fire skill, I wondered why I didn’t possess this magical talent.

An answer echoed in my mind. Because we need a way to kill you.

I stumbled away from the blaze. Sweat poured down my back as the sound of sizzling blood vibrated in my ears. All moisture fled my mouth and my heart cooked in my chest. The hot air seared my throat. The smell of charred flesh filled my nose and my stomach heaved. Pain assaulted every inch of my skin.

No air to scream.

I rolled around the floor, trying to smother the fire.

I burned.

The magical attack stopped, releasing me from the torment. I dropped to the floor and breathed in the cool air.

“Yelena, what happened?” Irys touched an icy hand to my forehead. “Are you all right?”

My mentor and friend peered down at me. Concern lined her face and filled her emerald eyes.

“I’m fine.” My voice croaked, setting off a coughing fit. Irys helped me sit up.

“Look at your clothes. Did you set yourself on fire?”

Black soot streaked the fabric and burn holes peppered my sleeves and skirt/pants. Beyond repair, I would have to ask my cousin, Nutty, to sew me another set. I sighed. I should just order a hundred of the cotton tunics and skirt/pants from her to save time. Events, including magical attacks, conspired to keep my life interesting.

“A magician sent me a message through the fire,” I explained. Even though I knew Roze possessed the strongest magic in Sitia, and could bypass my mental defenses, I didn’t want to accuse her without proof.

Before Irys could question me further, I asked, “How did the Council session go?” I hadn’t been allowed to attend. Although the rainy weather wasn’t conducive for walking to the Council Hall, it still rankled.

The Council wanted me well-versed in all the issues they dealt with on a daily basis as part of my training to be a Liaison between them and the Territory of Ixia. My training as a Soulfinder, though, remained a subject the Council hadn’t agreed on. According to Irys’s theory, my reluctance to begin learning could be the cause of the Council’s indecision. I thought they worried I would follow the same path as the Soulfinder from long ago once I discovered the extent of my powers.

“The session…” Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Good and bad. The Council has agreed to support your training.” She paused.

I steeled myself for the next bit of news.

“Roze was…upset about the decision.”

“Upset?”

“Fiercely opposed.”

At least now I knew the motive behind my fire message.

“She still thinks you’re a threat. So the Council has agreed to let Roze train you.”

I scrambled to my feet. “No.”

“It’s the only way.”

I bit back a reply. There were other options. There had to be. I was in the Magician’s Keep, surrounded by magicians of various skill levels. There had to be another who could work with me. “What about you or Bain?”

“They wanted a mentor who was impartial. Out of the four Masters, that left Roze.”

“But she’s not—”

“I know. This could be beneficial. Working with Roze, you’ll be able to convince her you’re not out to rule the country. She’ll understand your desire to help both Sitia and Ixia.”

My doubtful expression remained.

“She doesn’t like you, but her passion for keeping Sitia a safe and free place to live will override any personal feelings.”

Irys handed me a scroll, stopping my sarcastic comment on Roze’s personal feelings. “This arrived during the Council session.”

I opened the message. In tight-printed letters was an order from Moon Man. It read, Yelena, I have found what you seek. Come.

2

THE MESSAGE I HELD WAS typical for Moon Man, my Sandseed Story Weaver and friend. Cryptic and vague. I imagined he had written the note with a devilish grin on his face. As my Story Weaver, he knew I sought many things. Knowledge about Soulfinders and finding a balance between Sitia and Ixia resided at the top of my list. A quiet vacation would be nice, too, but I felt certain he referred to Ferde.

Ferde Daviian, the Soulstealer, and killer of eleven girls had escaped from the Magician’s Keep cells with Cahil Ixia’s help. After the Council failed to recapture him, they debated for an entire month about how to find them both.

My frustration mounted with every delay. Ferde was weak from when I had pulled the souls—his source of magical power—from him during our fight. But all it would take was another girl’s murder for him to regain some of his strength. So far, no one had been reported missing, but the knowledge that he remained free clawed at my heart.

To avoid imagining the horror Ferde might cause, I focused on the message in my hand. Moon Man hadn’t specified to come alone, but I dismissed the notion to tell the Council as soon as the thought formed in my mind. By the time they decided what to do, Ferde would be long gone. I would go without informing them. Irys would call it my rush-into-a-situation-and-hope-for-the-best method. With only a few minor mishaps, it had worked in the past. And at this point, rushing off held more appeal.

Irys had moved away when I unrolled the message, but, by the way she held herself so still, I knew she was curious. I told her about the note.

“We should inform the Council,” she said.

“So they could do what? Debate every possible issue for another month? The message invited me. If I need your help, I’ll send for you.” I sensed her resolve softening.

“You should not go alone.”

“Fine. I’ll take Leif with me.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Irys agreed. As a Council member, she wasn’t happy about it, but she had learned to trust my judgment.

My brother, Leif, would probably be as glad as I was to get away from both the Keep and the Citadel. Roze Featherstone’s growing animosity toward me put Leif in a difficult situation. Apprenticed to Roze while training at the Magician’s Keep, he had become one of her aides upon graduation. His magical skill of sensing someone’s emotions helped Roze determine a person’s guilt in a crime, and his magic also aided victims in remembering details about what had happened to them.

Leif’s first reaction to my reappearance in Sitia after a fourteen-year absence had been immediate hatred. He had convinced himself that my kidnapping to the Territory of Ixia had been done to spite him and my return from the north had been an Ixian plot to spy on Sitia.

“At least we should tell the Master Magicians about Moon Man’s message,” Irys said. “I’m sure Roze would like to know when she can begin your training.”

I frowned at her, and considered telling her about Roze’s petty fire attack. No. I would deal with Roze on my own. Unfortunately, I would have plenty of time with her.

“We’re having a Masters meeting at the administration building this afternoon. It will be the perfect time to inform them about your plans.”

I scowled, but she remained steadfast.

“Good. I’ll see you later,” she said.

Irys sailed out of the tower before I could voice my protest. I could still reach her with my mind, though. Our minds always remained linked. The connection was as if we both stood in the same room. We each had our own private thoughts, but if I “spoke” to Irys, she would hear me. If she did probe into my deeper thoughts and memories, it would be considered a breach in the magician’s Ethical Code.

My horse, Kiki, and I shared the same connection. A mental call to Kiki was all that was needed for her to “hear” me. Communicating with Leif or my friend Dax proved more difficult; I had to consciously pull power and seek them. And, once found, they had to allow me access through their mental defenses and into their thoughts.

Although I possessed the ability to take a shortcut to their thoughts and emotions through their souls, the Sitians considered the skill a breach of the Ethical Code. I had scared Roze by using it to protect myself against her. Even with all her power, she couldn’t stop me from touching her essence.

Anxiety rolled in my stomach. My new title of Soulfinder didn’t sit well with me, either. I shied away from that line of speculation as I wrapped my cloak around me before leaving the tower.

On my way across the Keep’s campus, my attention returned to my musings about mental communication. My link with Valek couldn’t be considered a magical connection. To me, Valek’s mind was unreachable, but he had the uncanny ability to know when I needed him and he would connect with me. He had saved my life many times through that bond.

Turning Valek’s snake bracelet around my wrist, I pondered our relationship until a biting wind laced with icy needles drove away all warm thoughts about him. The cold season had descended on northern Sitia with a vengeance. I shuffled through slushy puddles and shielded my face from the sleet. The Keep’s white marble buildings were splattered with mud and looked gray in the weak light, reflecting the miserable day with perfection.

Spending most of my twenty-one years in northern Ixia, I had endured this type of weather for only a few days during the cooling season. Then the cold air would drive the dampness away. But, according to Irys, this horrid mess was a typical Sitian day during the cold season, and snow was a rare event that seldom lasted more than a night.

I trudged toward the Keep’s administration building, ignoring the hostile stares from the students who hurried between classes. One of the results of capturing Ferde had been the immediate change in my status from an apprentice of the Keep to a Magician’s Aide. Since Irys and I had agreed to a partnership, she offered to share her tower. I had accepted with relief, glad to be away from the cold censure of my fellow students.

Their scorn was nothing in comparison to Roze’s fury when I entered the Masters’ meeting room. I braced myself for her outburst, but Irys jumped from her seat at the long table and explained why I had come.

“…note from a Sandseed Story Weaver,” Irys said. “He may have located Ferde and Cahil.”

The corners of Roze’s mouth pulled down with disdain. “Impossible. Crossing the Avibian Plains to return to his clan in the Daviian Plateau would be suicide. And it’s too obvious. Cahil is probably taking Ferde to either the Stormdance or the Bloodgood lands. Cahil has many supporters there.”

Roze had been Cahil’s champion in the Council. Cahil had been raised by soldiers who had fled the takeover in Ixia. They convinced Cahil that he was the nephew of the dead King of Ixia and should inherit the throne. He had worked hard to gain supporters and attempted to build an army to defeat the Commander of Ixia. However, once he discovered he was really born to a common soldier, he rescued Ferde and disappeared.

Roze had encouraged Cahil. They held the same belief that it was just a matter of time before Commander Ambrose set his sights on conquering Sitia.

“Cahil could bypass the plains to get to the plateau,” Zitora Cowan, Third Magician, offered. Her honey-brown eyes held concern, but as the youngest of the four Master Magicians her suggestions tended to be ignored by the others.

“Then how would this Moon Man know? The Sandseeds don’t venture out of the plains unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Roze said.

“That’s what they want us to believe,” Irys said. “I wouldn’t put it past them to have a few scouts around.”

“Either way,” Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician, said, “we must consider all options. Obvious or not, someone needs to confirm that Cahil and Ferde are not in the plateau.” With his white hair and flowing robes, Bain’s appearance matched what I had assumed to be a traditional magician’s uniform. Wisdom radiated from his wrinkled face.

“I’m going,” I declared.

“We should send soldiers with her,” Zitora said.

“Leif should go,” Bain added. “As cousins of the Sandseed, Yelena and Leif will be welcomed in the plains.”

Roze ran her slender fingers along the short white strands of her hair and frowned, appearing to be deep in thought. With the colder temperatures, Roze had stopped wearing the sleeveless dresses she preferred and exchanged them for long-sleeved gowns. The deep navy hue of the garment absorbed the light and almost matched her dark skin. Moon Man had the same skin tone, and I wondered what color his hair would be if he hadn’t shaved it off.

“I’m not sending anyone,” Roze finally said. “It’s a waste of time and resources.”

“I’m going. I don’t need your permission.” I stood, preparing to leave.

“You need my permission to exit the Keep,” Roze said. “This is my domain. I’m in charge of all magicians, including you, Soulfinder.” Her hands smacked her chair’s arms. “If I had control of the Council, you would be taken to the Keep’s cells to await execution. No good has ever come from a Soulfinder.”

The other Masters gaped at Roze in shock. She remained incensed. “Just look at our history. Every Soulfinder has craved power. Magical power. Political power. Power over people’s souls. Yelena will be no different. Sure now she plays at being a Liaison and has agreed to my training. It’s only a matter of time. Already…” Roze gestured to the doorway. “Already she wants to run off before I can begin lesson one.”

Her words echoed through the stunned silence. Roze glanced around at their horrified expressions and smoothed the wrinkles from her gown. Her dislike of me was well-known, but this time she had gone too far.

“Roze, that was quite—”

She raised her hand, stopping Bain from the rest of his lecture. “You know the history. You have been warned many, many times, so I will say no more about it.” She rose from her seat. Towering a good seven inches above me, she peered down. “Go, then. Take Leif with you. Consider it your first lesson. A lesson in futility. When you return, you’ll be mine.”

Roze made to leave, but I caught a thread of her thoughts in my mind.

…should keep her occupied and out of my way.

Roze paused before she exited. Looking over her shoulder, she gave me a pointed stare. Keep out of Sitia’s affairs. And you might be the only Soulfinder in history to live past the age of twenty-five.

Go take another look at your history books, Roze, I said. The demise of a Soulfinder is always reported along with the death of a Master Magician.

Roze ignored me as she left the meeting room, ending the session.

I went to find Leif. His quarters were near the apprentice’s wing on the east side of the Keep’s campus. He lived in the Magician’s building, which housed those who had graduated from the Keep and were now either teaching new students or working as aides to the Master Magicians.

The rest of the magicians who had also completed the curriculum were assigned to different towns to serve the citizens of Sitia. The Council tried to have a healer in every town, but the magicians with rare powers—like the ability to read ancient languages or find lost items—moved from place to place as needed.

Magicians with strong powers took the Master-level test before leaving the Keep. In the past twenty years, only Zitora had passed, bringing the number of Masters to four. In Sitia’s history, there never had been more than four Masters at one time.

Irys thought a Soulfinder could be strong enough to take the Master’s test. I disagreed. They already had the maximum, and I lacked the basic magical skills of lighting fires and moving objects—skills all the Masters possessed.

Besides, being a Soulfinder was bad enough, having to endure and fail the Master test would be too much to bear. Or so I guessed. The rumors about the test sounded horrific.

Before I even reached Leif’s door, it swung open and my brother stuck his head out. The rain soaked his short black hair in an instant. I shooed him back as I hurried into his living room, dripping muddy slush onto his clean floor.

His apartment was tidy and sparsely furnished. The only hint of his personality could be gleaned from the few paintings that decorated the room. A detailed rendering of a rare Ylang-Ylang flower indigenous to the Illiais Jungle, a painting of a strangler fig suffocating a dying mahogany tree and a picture of a tree leopard crouched on a branch hung on his walls.

Leif scanned my bedraggled appearance with resignation. His jade-colored eyes were the only feature that matched my own. His stocky body and square jaw were the complete opposite of my oval face and thin build.

“It can’t be good news,” Leif said. “I’d doubt you would brave the weather just to say hello.”

“You opened the door before I could knock,” I said. “You must know something’s up.”

Leif wiped the rain from his face. “I smelled you coming.”

“Smelled?”

“You reek of Lavender. Do you bathe in Mother’s perfume or just wash your cloak with it?” he teased.

“How mundane. I was thinking of something a little more magical.”

“Why waste the energy on using magic when you don’t have to? Although…”

Leif’s eyes grew distant and I felt the slight tingle of power being pulled.

“Apprehension. Excitement. Annoyance. Anger,” Leif said. “I take it the Council hasn’t voted to make you Queen of Sitia yet?”

When I didn’t answer, he said, “Don’t worry, little sister, you’re still the princess of our family. We both know Mother and Father love you best.”

His words held an edge, and I remembered it hadn’t been long since he had wanted to see me dead.

“Esau and Perl love us equally. You really do need me around to correct your misconceptions. I’ve proved you wrong before. I can do it again.”

Leif put his hands on his hips and raised one dubious eyebrow.

“You said I was afraid to come back to the Keep. Well—” I spread my arms wide, flinging drops of water onto Leif’s green tunic “—here I am.”

“You are here. I’ll grant you that. But are you unafraid?”

“I already have a mother and a Story Weaver. Your job is to be the annoying older brother. Stick to what you know.”

“Ohhh. I’ve hit a nerve.”

“I don’t want to argue with you. Here.” I pulled Moon Man’s note from my cloak’s pocket and handed it to him.

He unfolded the damp paper, scanning the message. “Ferde,” he said, coming to the same conclusion. “Have you told the Council?”

“No. The Masters know.” I filled Leif in on what had happened in the meeting room, omitting my “exchange” with Roze Featherstone.

Leif’s wide shoulders drooped. After a long moment, he said, “Master Featherstone doesn’t believe Ferde and Cahil are going to the Daviian Plateau. She doesn’t trust me anymore.”

“You don’t know that for—”

“She thinks Cahil is headed in another direction. Normally she would send me to determine his location and send for her. Together, we would confront him. Now I get assigned the wild-valmur chase.”

“Valmur?” It took me a moment to connect the name with the small, long-tailed creature that lived in the jungle.

“Remember? We used to chase them through the trees. They were so fast and quick, we never caught one. But sit down and hold a piece of sap candy and they’ll jump right into your lap and follow you around all day.”

When I failed to respond, Leif cringed with guilt. “That must have been after…”

After I had been kidnapped and taken to Ixia. Although I could imagine a young Leif scampering through the jungle’s canopy after a fleet-footed valmur.

The Zaltana Clan’s homestead had been built high in the tree branches, and my father had joked that the children learned to climb before they could walk.

“Roze could be wrong about Cahil’s intentions. So pack some of that sap candy. We might need it,” I said.

Leif shivered. “At least it will be warmer in the plains, and the plateau is farther south.”

I left Leif’s quarters, heading to my tower to pack some supplies. The sleet blew sideways and tiny daggers of ice stung my face as I hurried through the storm. Irys was waiting for me in the receiving room just past the oversize tower entrance. The flames in the hearth pulsed with the rush of cold air slipping around the doors as I fought to close them against the wind.

I hustled to the fire and held my hands out. The prospect of traveling in such weather was unappealing.

“Does Leif know how to light fires?” I asked Irys.

“I think so. But no matter how skilled he is, wet wood won’t ignite.”

“Great,” I muttered. Steam floated from my soaked cloak. I draped the soggy garment around a chair then dragged it closer to the fire.

“When are you leaving?” Irys asked.

“Right away.” My stomach grumbled and I realized I had missed lunch. I sighed, knowing dinner would probably be a cold slice of cheese and mushy bread.

“I’m meeting Leif in the barn. Oh snake spit!” I remembered a couple of commitments.

“Irys, can you tell Gelsi and Dax I’ll start their training when I get back?”

“What training? Not magic—”

“No, no. Self-defense training.” I pointed to my bow. The five-foot-long staff of ebony wood was still threaded through its holder on my backpack. Drops of water beaded and gleamed on the weapon.

I pulled it free, feeling the solid weight of the staff in my hands. Underneath the ebony surface of the bow was a gold-colored wood. Pictures of me as a child, of the jungle, my family, and so on had been etched into the wood. Even Kiki’s loving eyes had been included in the story of my life. The bow moved smoothly in my hands. A gift from a master crafts-woman of the Sandseed Clan who had also raised Kiki.

“And Bain knows that you won’t be at his morning lesson,” Irys said. “But he said—”

“Don’t tell me he assigned homework,” I pleaded. Just thinking about lugging the heavy history tome made my back hurt.

Irys smiled. “He said that he would help you catch up on your studies when you return.”

Relieved, I picked up my pack, sorting the contents to see what other supplies we would need.

“Anything else?” Irys asked.

“No. What are you going to tell the Council?” I asked.

“That Roze has assigned you to learn about your magic from the Story Weavers. The first documented Soulfinder in Sitia was a Sandseed. Did you know that?”

“No.” I was surprised but shouldn’t have been. After all, what I knew about Soulfinders wouldn’t fill a page in one of Master Bain’s history books.

When I finished packing, I said goodbye to Irys and muscled my way through the wind to the dining hall. The kitchen staff always had a supply of travel rations on hand for the magicians. I grabbed enough food to last us a week.

As I drew closer to the stables, I could see a few brave horse heads poking out of their stalls. Kiki’s copper-and-white face was unmistakable even in the murky half-light.

She nickered in greeting and I opened my mind to her.

We go? she asked.

Yes. I’m sorry to take you out on such a horrible day, I said.

Not bad with Lavender Lady.

Lavender Lady was the name the horses had given me. They named the people around them just like we would name a pet. I had to smile, though, remembering Leif’s comment about my bathing in the pungent herb.

Lavender smell like… Kiki didn’t have the words to describe her emotions. A mental image of a bushy blue-gray lavender plant with its long purple cluster of flowers formed in Kiki’s mind. Feelings of contentment and security accompanied the image.

The main corridor of the stable echoed as if empty despite the pile of feed bags nearby. The thick supporting beams of the building stood like soldiers between the stalls and the end of the row disappeared into the gloom.

Leif? I asked Kiki.

Sad Man in tack room, Kiki said.

Thanks. I ambled toward the back of the barn, inhaling the familiar aroma of leather and saddle soap. The dry smell of straw scratched my throat and clung to the earthy scent of manure.

Tracker, too.

Who?

But before Kiki could answer I spotted Captain Marrok in the tack room with Leif. The sharp tip of Marrok’s sword was aimed at Leif’s chest.

3

“STAY BACK, YELENA,” Marrok ordered. “Answer me, Leif.”

Leif’s face had paled, but his jaw was set in a stubborn line. His gaze met mine, questioning.

“What do you want, Marrok?” I asked.

The bruises on Marrok’s face had faded, but his right eye was still puffy and raw despite Healer Hayes’s efforts to repair his broken cheekbone.

“I want to find Cahil,” Marrok said.

“We all want to find him. Why are you threatening my brother?” I used a stern tone to remind Marrok that he now dealt with me. Having an infamous reputation had a few advantages.

Marrok looked at me. “He works with First Magician. She’s in charge of the search. If she has any clue as to where to find Cahil, she’ll send Leif.” He gestured to the bridles in Leif’s hands. “On a day like today, he’s not going to the market or out for a pleasure ride. But he won’t tell me where he’s going.”

It continued to amaze me just how fast news and gossip traveled through the Keep’s guards.

“Did you ask him before or after you pulled your sword?”

The tip of Marrok’s blade wavered. “Why does it matter?” he asked.

“Because most people are more willing to cooperate if they don’t have a weapon pointed at their chest.” Realizing that Marrok was a career soldier who did most of his talking with his sword, I switched tactics.

“Why didn’t you plan to follow Leif?” Marrok’s tracking abilities had impressed the horses so much that they had given him the name Tracker.

Marrok touched his cheek and winced. I could guess his thoughts. Marrok had followed Cahil with the utmost loyalty, but Cahil had beaten and tortured him to find out the truth about his common heritage, leaving Marrok for dead.

The soldier sheathed his sword in one quick motion as if he had made a decision. “I can’t follow Leif. He would sense me with his magic and confuse my mind.”

“I can’t do that,” Leif said.

“Truly?” Marrok rested his hand near his sword, considering.

“But I can,” I said.

Marrok’s attention snapped back to me.

“Marrok, you’re hardly fit for travel. And I can’t let you kill Cahil. The Sitian Council wants to talk to him first.” I wanted to talk to him.

“I don’t seek revenge,” Marrok said.

“Then what do you want?”

“To help.” Marrok gripped the hilt of his weapon.

“What?” Leif and I said at the same time.

“Sitia needs Cahil. Only the Council and the Masters know he doesn’t have royal blood. Ixia is a real threat to Sitia’s way of life. Sitia needs a figurehead to rally behind. Someone to lead them into battle.”

“But he aided in Ferde’s escape,” I said. “And Ferde could be torturing and raping another girl as we speak!”

“Cahil was just confused and overwhelmed by learning the truth of his birth. I raised him. I know him better than anyone. He probably already regrets his rashness. Ferde is most likely dead. If I get a chance to talk to Cahil, I’m positive he would come back without a fight, and we can work this out with the Council.”

Power brushed me.

“He’s sincere about his intentions,” Leif said.

But what about Cahil’s intentions? I had seen him be ruthless and opportunistic in his quest to build an army, but never rash. However, I had only known him for two seasons. I considered using magic to see Marrok’s memories of Cahil, but that would be a breach in the magician’s Ethical Code unless he gave me his consent. So I asked for it.

“Go ahead,” Marrok said, meeting my gaze.

Pain lingered in his blue-gray eyes. His short gray hair had turned completely white since Cahil’s attack.

Granting me permission was enough to convince me of his sincerity, but despite his good intentions he still wanted to build an army and attack Ixia. And that ran counter to what I believed. Ixia and Sitia just needed to understand each other and work together. A war would help no one.

Do I leave Marrok here to influence the Council toward an attack, or take him with me? His skills as a tracker would be an added benefit.

“If I allow you to come with us, you must obey all my orders. Agreed?” I asked.

Marrok straightened as if he stood in a military formation. “Yes, sir.”

“Are you strong enough to ride?”

“Yes, but I don’t have a horse.”

“That’s all right. I’ll find you a Sandseed horse. All you’ll need to do is hold on.” I grinned, thinking of Kiki’s special gust-of-wind gait.

Leif laughed and his body relaxed with the release of the tension. “Good luck convincing the Stable Master to loan you his horse.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Garnet is the only other horse in the Keep’s stables bred by the Sandseeds.”

I wilted in defeat just thinking about the stubborn, cranky Stable Master. Now what? No other horse breed would be able to keep up with us.

Honey, Kiki said in my mind.

Honey?

Avibian honey. Chief Man love honey.

Which meant, if I offered to bring some Avibian honey back for the Stable Master, he might lend me his horse.

We left the Citadel through the south gate and headed down the valley road. Farm fields peppered with corn stubble and wagon ruts swept out from the right side of the road. The Avibian Plains dominated the left side.

The long grasses of the plains had turned from yellow and red to brown in the cold weather. The rains created extensive puddles, transforming the rolling landscape into a marshland and scenting the air with a damp smell of earthy decay.

Leif rode Rusalka, and Marrok had a death grip on Garnet’s reins. His nervousness affected the tall horse, who jittered to the side at every noise.

Kiki slowed so I could talk to him. “Marrok, relax. I’m the one who promised to bring back a case of Avibian honey plus clean the Stable Master’s tack for three weeks.”

He barked out a laugh but kept his tight grip.

Time to switch tactics. I reached for the blanket of power hovering over the world and pulled a thread of magic, linking my mind with Garnet’s. The horse missed Chief Man and didn’t like this stranger on his back, but he settled when I showed him our destination.

Home, Garnet agreed. He wanted to go. Pain.

Marrok’s rigid hold hurt Garnet’s mouth, and I knew Marrok wouldn’t relax even if I threatened to leave him behind. Sighing, I made light contact with Marrok’s mind. His worry and fear focused more on Cahil than on himself. His apprehension came from not feeling in control of the powerful horse underneath him despite the fact that he held Garnet’s reins. And also from not being in charge of the situation, having to take orders from her.

A dark undercurrent to his thoughts about me pulled a warning bell in my mind, and I would have liked to explore deeper. He had given me permission to see his memories of Cahil, but he hadn’t given me carte blanche to probe. Instead, I sent him some calming thoughts. Even though he couldn’t hear my words he should be able to react to the soothing tone.

After a while, Marrok no longer held himself so rigid, and his body moved with Garnet’s motion. When Garnet felt comfortable, Kiki turned east into the plains. Mud splashed from her hooves as she increased her pace. I gave Leif and Marrok the signal to let the horses have control.

Please find Moon Man. Fast, I said to Kiki.

With a slight hop, she broke into her gust-of-wind gait. Rusalka and Garnet followed. I felt carried by a river of air. The plains blurred under Kiki’s hooves at a rate about twice a full-speed gallop.

Only Sandseed horses could achieve this gait, and only when they rode in the Avibian Plains. It had to be a magical skill, but I couldn’t tell if Kiki pulled power. I would have to ask Moon Man about it when we found him.

The plains encompassed a massive section of eastern Sitia. Located to the southeast of the Citadel, it stretched all the way to the base of the Emerald Mountains in the east, and down to the Daviian Plateau to the south.

On a normal horse, it took about five to seven days to cross the plains. The Sandseeds were the only clan to live within the borders, and their Story Weavers had shielded their lands with a powerful protective magic. Any stranger who ventured into the plains without Sandseed permission became lost. The magic would confuse the stranger’s mind and he would travel in circles until he either stumbled out of the plains or ran out of water and died.

Magicians with strong powers could travel without being affected by the magic, but the Story Weavers always knew when someone crossed into their land. As distant cousins of the Sandseeds, the Zaltana Clan members could also travel the plains unharmed. The other clans avoided the area altogether.

Since Marrok rode on a Sandseed horse the protection didn’t attack him and we were able to ride all night. Kiki finally stopped for a rest at sunrise.

While Leif collected firewood, I rubbed the horses down and fed them. Marrok helped Leif, but I could see exhaustion etched in his pale face.

The rain and sleet had slowed during the night, but gray clouds sealed the sky. Our campsite had plenty of grass for the horses. It was on a high spot in the plains next to a rocky out-cropping with a few scrub trees growing nearby, and was a solid place for us to stand without sinking ankle-deep into the mud.

Our cloaks were soaked, so I tied my rope between two trees to hang the wet garments. Leif and Marrok found a few dry branches. Making a tent of the twigs, Leif stared at the wood and small flames sprang to life.

“Show-off,” I said.

He smiled as he filled a pot with water for tea. “You’re jealous.”

“You’re right. I am.” I growled in frustration. Leif and I were both born to the same parents, yet we had different magical powers. Our father, Esau, had no overt magic, just a flair for finding and using the plants and trees of the jungle for food, medicines and his inventions. Perl, our mother, could only sense if a person had magical abilities.

So how did Leif get the magical abilities to light fires and sense a person’s life force while I could affect their souls? With my magic, I could force Leif to light a fire, but couldn’t do it on my own. I wondered if anyone in Sitian history had studied the relationship between magic and birth parents. Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician, would probably know. He owned a copy of almost every book in Sitia.

Marrok fell asleep as soon as we finished eating our breakfast of bread and cheese. Leif and I remained by the fire.

“Did you put something in his tea?” I asked.

“Some fiddlewood bark to help him heal.”

Wrinkles and scars lined Marrok’s face. Through the yellowed bruises along his jaw, I spotted some white stubble. His swollen eye oozed blood and tears. Red streaks painted his right cheek. Healer Hayes hadn’t allowed me to help with Marrok’s recovery. He had only let me assist with minor injuries. Another who feared my powers.

I touched Marrok’s forehead. His skin felt hot and dry. The fetid smell of rotten flesh emanated from him. I reached for the power source and felt the Sandseeds’ protective magic watching me for signs of threat. Gathering magic, I projected a thread to him, revealing the muscles and bone underneath Marrok’s skin. His injuries pulsed with a red light. His cheekbone had been shattered and some bone fragments had gotten into his eye, affecting his vision. Small dark growths of an infection dotted the ruined area.

I concentrated on the injury until his pain transferred to my own face. A sharp needle of pain stabbed my right eye as my vision dulled and tears welled. Curling into a ball, I pushed against the onslaught, channeling the magic from the power source through my body. The flow chugged, and I strained. All of a sudden the current of magic moved with ease as if someone had removed a beaver’s dam, washing away the pain. Relief swept through me. I relaxed.

“Do you think that was a good idea?” Leif asked when I opened my eyes.

“The wound was infected.”

“But you used all your energy.”

“I…” I sat up, feeling tired but not exhausted. “I—”

“Had help,” a voice snapped out of nowhere.

Leif jerked upright in surprise, but I recognized the deep masculine tone. Moon Man appeared next to the fire as if he had formed from the rising heat and ashes. His bald head gleamed in the sunlight.

In deference to the chill, Moon Man wore a long-sleeved tan tunic and dark brown pants that matched the color of his skin, but no shoes.

“No paint?” I asked Moon Man. The first time I had met him he had coalesced out of a beam of moonlight covered only with indigo dye. He had claimed to be my Story Weaver and proceeded to show me my life’s story and unlocked my childhood memories. Six years of living with my mother, father and brother had been suppressed by a magician named Mogkan so I wouldn’t long for my family after Mogkan had kidnapped me.

Moon Man smiled. “I did not have time to cover my skin. And it is a good thing I came when I did.” His tone conveyed his displeasure. “Or you would have spent all your strength.”

“Not all,” I countered, sounding like a belligerent child.

“Have you become an all-powerful Soulfinder already?” He widened his eyes in mock amazement. “I will bow down before you, Oh Great One.” He bent at the waist.

“All right, enough,” I said, laughing. “I should have thought it through before healing Marrok. Happy now?”

He sighed dramatically. “I would be content if I thought you learned a lesson and would not do it again. However, I am well aware that you will continue to rush right into situations. It is weaved into your life’s pattern. There is no hope for you.”

“Is that why you sent for me? To tell me I’m hopeless?”

Moon Man sobered. “I wish. We had heard that the Soulstealer had escaped from the Magician’s Keep with Cahil’s help. One of our Story Weavers scouting in the Daviian Plateau sensed a stranger traveling with one of the Vermin.”

“Are Cahil and Ferde in the plateau?” Leif asked.

“We think so, but we want Yelena to identify the Soulstealer.”

“Why?” I asked. The Sandseeds didn’t waste time on trials and incarceration. They executed criminals on capture.

However, the Daviian Vermin had been very hard to find, and they had powerful magicians. The Vermin were a group of Sandseed youths who had become discontented with the Sandseed lifestyle of keeping to themselves and limiting contact with the other clans. The Vermin wanted the Sandseed Story Weavers to use their great powers to guide all of Sitia and not just the inhabitants of the plains.

They had broken from the Sandseed Clan and settled in the Daviian Plateau, becoming the Daviian Clan. The plateau’s dry and inhospitable soil made farming a nightmare, so the Daviians stole from the Sandseeds, and earned the nickname of Vermin. The Sandseeds also referred to the Vermin’s magicians as Warpers, since they used their magic for selfish reasons.

“You need to identify the Soulstealer because he may have harvested more souls, and only you can release those souls before we kill him,” Moon Man said with a flat and emotionless voice.

I grabbed his arm. “Have you found any bodies?”

“No. But I am concerned about what we will discover when we raid their camp.”

The horror of the last two seasons threatened to overwhelm me. Eleven girls mutilated and raped by Ferde so he could steal their souls and gain more magical power. Valek and I had stopped him before he could collect the final soul. If he had succeeded, Sitia and Ixia would now be his to rule. Instead, I had released all those souls to the sky. To think that he might have started again was unbearable.

“You’ve found their camp?” Leif asked.

“Yes. We put our lives on hold,” Moon Man said. “The warriors of the clan have done a complete sweep of the plateau. We found a large encampment on the southern edge near the border of the Illiais Jungle.”

And close to my family. I must have gasped because Moon Man touched my shoulder and squeezed.

“Do not worry about your clan. Every Sandseed warrior is ready to attack if the Vermin show any signs of departing their camp. We will leave when the horses are rested.”

I paced around the campfire, knowing I should get some sleep but unable to still my racing thoughts. Leif groomed the horses and Marrok slept. Moon Man reclined next to the fire, staring at the sky.

Marrok woke as the sky darkened. His eye had stopped weeping blood, and the swelling was gone. He probed his cheek with a finger. Amazement lit his face until he spotted Moon Man standing next to him. He jumped to his feet and pulled his sword, brandishing the weapon at the Story Weaver. Even armed, Marrok looked slight next to the muscular Sandseed, who towered six inches over him.

Moon Man laughed. “I see you are feeling better. Come. We have plans to make.”

The four of us sat around the fire while Leif made dinner. Marrok settled next to me, and from the corner of my eye I could see that whenever Marrok touch his cheek, he stared at Moon Man with a fearful fascination. And his right hand never strayed far from the hilt of his sword.

“We will leave at dawn,” Moon Man said.

“Why does everything have to start at dawn?” I asked. “The horses have good night vision.”

“That will give the horses a full day to recover. I will be riding with you on Kiki. She is the strongest. And once we reach the plateau, there will be no rest stops until we join the others.”

“And then what?” I asked.

“Then we will attack. You are to stay close to me and the other Story Weavers. The Soulstealer will be protected along with the Warpers. Once we break through the outer guards, then the hard part begins.”

“Dealing with the Warpers,” I said.

He nodded.

“Can’t you move the Void again?” Leif asked.

The Void was a hole in the power blanket where no magic existed. The last time the Sandseeds had uncovered a Vermin hideout, it had been protected by a shield of magic that created an illusion. The camp appeared to be occupied by only a few warriors. When the Sandseeds had moved the Void over the Vermin, the illusion was broken. Unfortunately, the encampment held four times the number of soldiers, and we had been vastly outnumbered.

“They are aware of that trick and will be alerted to our presence if we try to move the power blanket,” Moon Man said.

“Then how are you going to beat the Warpers?” I asked, worried. If the Vermin had access to magic it would be a difficult battle.

“All the Sandseed Story Weavers will link together and form a strong magical net that will seize them and prevent them from using their magic. We will hold them long enough for you to find the Soulstealer.”

Breaking his silence, Marrok asked, “What about Cahil?”

“He helped the Soulstealer escape. He should be punished,” Moon Man said.

“The Council wants to talk to him,” I said.

“And then they will decide what to do with him,” Leif added.

Moon Man shrugged. “He is not a Vermin. I will tell the others not to kill him, but in a large battle it might be hard.”

“He’s probably with the Daviian leaders,” Marrok said.

“Marrok—you and Leif find Cahil and take him north of the fighting and I’ll rendezvous with you after the battle.”

“Yes, sir,” Marrok said.

Leif nodded, but I could see a question in his eyes.

Problem? I asked in his mind.

What if Cahil convinces Marrok not to take him back to the Council? What if they join together and I’m outnumbered?

Good point. I’ll ask Moon Man to—

Assign one of my warriors to stay with Leif, Moon Man said.

I jerked in surprise. I hadn’t felt Moon Man draw power to link with us.

What else can you do? I asked.

I am not telling you. It would destroy my mysterious Story Weaver persona.

The next morning we saddled the horses and made our way south toward the plateau. Even with the weight of two riders, Kiki easily carried us. Stopping only once for a warm dinner and sleep, we reached the border in two days. At sunset on the second day, we stopped to rest the horses at the edge of the plains.

The flat expanse of the plateau stretched to the horizon. A few brown clumps of grass clung to the sunbaked surface. While the plains had a few trees, rolling hills, rocks and sandstone protrusions, the plateau had bristle bushes, coarse sand and a few stunted spine trees.

We had left the cold, cloudy weather behind. The afternoon sun had warmed the land enough for me to take off my cloak, but as the light slipped into the darkness, a cool breeze stirred to life.

Moon Man left to find his scout. Even at this distance from the Vermin camp, it was too risky to make a fire. I shivered as I ate my dinner of hard cheese and stale bread.

Moon Man returned with another Sandseed.

“This is Tauno,” Moon Man said. “He will show us the way through the plateau.”

I peered at the small man armed with a bow and arrows. Only an inch taller than me, he wore short pants despite the chilly air. His skin had been painted, but in the dim light I couldn’t discern the colors.

“We will leave when the moon is a quarter up,” Tauno said.

Traveling at night was a good idea, but I wondered what the warriors did during the day. “How do the Sandseeds stay hidden in the plateau?” I asked.

Tauno gestured to his skin. “We blend in. And hide our thoughts behind the Story Weavers’ null shield.”

I looked at Moon Man.

“A null shield blocks magic,” Moon Man explained. “If you were to scan the plateau with your magic, you would not sense any living creature behind the null shield.”

“Doesn’t using magic to create the shield alert the Vermin?” I asked.

“Not when it is done properly. It was completed before the Story Weavers left the plains.”

“What about the Story Weavers behind the shield? Can they use magic?” Leif asked.

“Magic can not penetrate the shield. It does not block our vision or hearing, just protects us from being discovered by magical means.”

As we prepared to travel, I thought about what Moon Man had said, and realized that there were many things I still didn’t know about magic. Too many. And the thought of learning more with Roze quelled my curiosity.

When the moon had traveled through a quarter of the black sky, Tauno said, “It is time to go.”

The muscles along my spine tightened in apprehension as Moon Man settled behind me on Kiki’s saddle. What if my lack of magical knowledge caused me to endanger our mission?

No sense worrying about it now. I pulled in a deep breath, steadied my nerves and glanced at my companions. Tauno sat with Marrok on Garnet’s back. From the pained expression on Marrok’s face, I knew he wasn’t happy about sharing his mount with a Sandseed warrior. And to make it worse, Tauno insisted on being in front and holding Garnet’s reins.

To stay behind the null shield, our path through the plateau had to be precise. Tauno led us. The soft crunch of the horses’ hooves on hard sand was the only sound.

The moon crawled along the sky. At one point I wanted to yell out and urge Kiki into a gallop just to break the tension that pressed around us.

When the blackness in the sky eased in the east, Tauno stopped and dismounted. We ate a quick breakfast and fed the horses. As the day brightened, I saw how well Tauno blended in with the plateau. He had camouflaged himself with the plateau’s colors of gray and tan.

“We walk from here,” Tauno said. “We will leave the horses. Take only what you need.”

The clear sky promised a warm day so I removed my cloak and stowed it in my backpack. Dry air laced with a fine grit blew, scratching at the back of my throat. I decided I needed my switchblade. Strapping the sheath around my right thigh, I removed the weapon and triggered the blade. I treated the tip of the blade with some Curare. The muscle-paralyzing drug would come in handy if Cahil wouldn’t cooperate. After I retracted the blade, I positioned the weapon in its holder through a hole in my skirt/pants pocket. I wrapped my long black hair into a bun and used my lock picks to keep the hair in place. Finally, I grabbed my bow.

Dressed for battle, though, didn’t mean I was prepared for battle. I hoped I would be able to find Cahil and Ferde and take them without killing anyone. But the grim knowledge that I would kill to save myself formed a knot in my throat.

Tauno scanned our clothes and weapons. Leif’s machete hung from his waist. He wore a green tunic and pants. Marrok had strapped his sword onto his belt. The dark brown scabbard matched his pants. I realized that we had all dressed in the colors of the earth, and, while we didn’t blend in as well as Tauno, we wouldn’t stand out either.

We tied our packs and supplies onto the horses’ saddles, then left the horses to graze on what little grass they could find, and walked south. The plateau appeared deserted. The need to search the area with magic crept along my skin, and I tried to ignore the desire. Connecting with the life around me had become almost instinctive and I felt exposed and out of sorts by not knowing what breathed nearby.

Taking a circuitous path, Tauno eventually stopped. He pointed to a cluster of spine trees. “Just beyond that copse is the camp,” he whispered.

I searched the plateau. Where was the Sandseed army? The earth undulated as if the sand had liquefied. The waves on the ground grew. I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a cry of surprise. Row upon row of Sandseed warriors stood. Camouflaged to match the sand, they had been lying on the ground in front of us and I hadn’t noticed them.

Moon Man smiled his amusement at my dismay. “You have been relying on your magical senses and have forgotten about your physical senses.”

Before I could respond, we were joined by four Sandseeds. Though they dressed the same as the warriors, these Sandseeds held themselves with authority. They issued orders and power radiated from them. Story Weavers.

A male Story Weaver handed Moon Man a scimitar. His sharp gaze pierced me as he studied my features. “This is the Soulfinder?” Doubt laced his words, but he spoke softly. “She is not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” I asked.

“A large dark-skinned woman. You look like you could not survive a sandstorm let alone find and release a soul.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not my Story Weaver. You’re easily distracted by the pattern of the cloth and can’t see the quality of the threads.”

“Well done,” Moon Man said to me. “Reed, show us the camp.”

The Story Weaver led us to the trees. Through the spiky needles on the branches, I saw the Daviian camp.

The air shimmered around the camp as if a bubble of heat had gotten trapped near the ground. A large cook fire burned in the central area. Many people scurried about either helping with breakfast or eating it. Tents fanned from the area, extending out until they reached the edge of the plateau.

Squinting in the sunlight, I looked beyond the encampment’s border. Just the tops of the trees in the Illiais Jungle were visible. They reminded me of a time when I had stood on a platform built near the peak of the tallest tree in the jungle and had seen the flat expanse of the plateau for the first time. The sheer rock drop-off into the jungle had appeared to be an impossible climb. So why set up camp there? I wondered.

Moon Man leaned next to me. “The camp is an illusion.”

“Do you have enough warriors to attack?” I asked, thinking the illusion hid many more Vermin.

“Every one.”

“All—” The Sandseeds yelled a battle cry and dashed toward the camp.

Moon Man grabbed my arm, pulling me with him. “Stay with me.”

With Leif and Marrok right behind us, we followed the Sandseeds. When the first warriors crossed into the illusion, they disappeared from sight for a moment. The sound of rushing water reached my ears as the chimera dissipated.

I blinked a few times to adjust my vision to what the Daviians had concealed. The central fire remained the same. But instead of many Vermin around the flames, there stood only one man. The rest of the camp was empty.

4

WHEN THE ILLUSION disappeared, so did the expanse of tents and all the Daviians. The lone man standing by the fire collapsed before the Sandseed warriors could reach him.

Evidence that a large army had camped here was imprinted on the ground. Although, by the time the Sandseed leaders restored order to the milling warriors, many of the Daviian tracks had been ruined.

And the only witness had taken poison.

“One of their Warpers,” Moon Man said, nudging the corpse with his bare foot. “He held the illusion and killed himself once it broke.”

“If you can clear the area, I might be able to tell you where they’ve gone,” Marrok said.

The Sandseed warriors returned to the copse of spine trees. Moon Man and I stayed by the fire as Marrok and Leif circled the camp. Marrok looked for physical evidence while Leif used his magic to smell the intentions of the Daviians.

I projected my mental awareness as far as I could. If I sought a specific person, then I could reach them from far away, but with a general search my magic could only extend about ten miles. I reached no one in the plateau, and the bounty of life in the jungle was too overwhelming to sort out.

When they had finished their circuit, Marrok and Leif returned. Their glum expressions reflected bad news.

“They’ve been gone for days. The majority of the tracks head east and west,” Marrok reported. “But I found some metal spikes with rope fibers in the ground near the edge of the plateau. A few Vermin could have climbed down into the jungle.”

I touched Leif’s arm. “The Zaltanas?”

“If the Vermin can even find our homestead among the trees, they’re still well protected,” he said.

“Even from one of the Warpers?” I asked.

Leif blanched.

“Are the ropes still there?” I asked Marrok.

“No. The others must have waited and either cut the rope or taken it along with them,” Marrok said.

“Do you know how many went down?” Moon Man asked.

“No.”

Leif said, “There were so many scents and emotions mixed together. The need for stealth and urgency predominated. They moved with a purpose and felt confident. The eastern group, though, had the most men and they…” Leif closed his eyes and sniffed the breeze. “I don’t know. I need to follow their trail for a while.”

Marrok led Leif to the eastern tracks. I asked Kiki and the other horses to come to us. While waiting for them, Moon Man and the other Story Weavers split the warriors into two groups, and sent two scouts, one to the west and the other to the east.

But what about those that went down the rope to the jungle? What about Cahil and Ferde? Were they even with the Daviians? And, if so, which way had they gone?

When the horses arrived, I grabbed my pack off Kiki’s saddle. Opening it, I pulled my rope out and headed for the rim of the plateau. I found one of the metal spikes Marrok had mentioned and tied the end of the rope to it. On my belly, I inched closer to the edge until I could see down into the jungle.

The sides of the cliff appeared to be smooth, with no hand-holds in sight. I tossed the rope over, but knew it wouldn’t reach the bottom far below. The end stopped a quarter of the way down. Even with a longer rope, the climb looked dangerous. Water sprayed out of fissures in the rock face about halfway down. The stones below glistened.

I considered the descent. A desperate person might attempt it, but Leif’s assessment of the Vermin hadn’t included desperation.

Moon Man waited for me by the horses.

“When the scouts return, we will set out,” he said.

A notion that had been bothering me finally clicked. “Your people have swept the plateau and have been watching the camp. How could the Vermin slip away without you knowing?”

“A few of their Warpers had been Story Weavers. They must have learned to make a null shield.”

“That would only hide their presence from a magical search. What about seeing them?”

Before Moon Man could answer, a shout rang out. Leif, Marrok and the scout ran toward us.

“Found a trench,” Marrok panted.

“Heading east then north.” The scout gestured.

“Ill intent,” Leif said.

North toward the Avibian Plains. Toward the Sandseeds’ unprotected lands because their warriors were here in the plateau. Every one.

Moon Man covered his face with his hands as if he needed to block out the distractions and think.

The second scout arrived from the west. Puffs of sand from his passage reached us before he did.

“Another trench?” Marrok asked.

“The trail ends. They doubled back.” The scout reported.

Moon Man dropped his hands and began shouting orders, sending the warriors northeast at a run, ordering the Story Weavers to make contact with the people who stayed behind on the plains.

“Come on,” he said, turning to join the others.

“No,” I said.

He stopped and looked back. “What?”

“Too obvious. I don’t think Cahil would go along with that.”

“Then where did he go?” Moon Man demanded.

“The bulk of the Daviians went east, but I think a smaller group either went west or south.”

“My people are in trouble,” Moon Man said.

“And so are mine,” I replied. “You go with your warriors. If I’m wrong, we’ll catch up with you.”

“And if you are right, then what?”

Then what, indeed. There were only three of us.

“I will go with you,” Moon Man said. He called one of the Story Weavers and a touch of magic pricked my skin as they linked their minds.

Not wanting to intrude on their mental conversation, I focused on finding Cahil. I examined the edge of the plateau. A branch from one of the tall jungle trees reached toward the cliff. I could use my grapple and rope and hook it—

No, Leif said in my mind. Suicide.

I frowned at him. But I could swing—

No.

Nutty could do it. Our cousin climbed trees as if valmur blood coursed through her veins.

You’re not Nutty.

I reluctantly abandoned that course of action. Even if I could swing to the tree, I doubted anyone else would follow me. Then I would be alone. I berated myself for being worried about being on my own: living in Sitia had made me soft.

It has made you smarter, Leif said. Then he added, not much smarter, but we can still hope for improvement.

“Where to?” Tauno asked as he joined our group.

I looked at Moon Man.

He shrugged. “He is better at scouting than fighting. We will need him,” he said with certainty.

I sighed at the implication. “West.”

Perhaps we would find a better way down into the jungle or, failing that, we would follow the plateau’s edge west toward the Cowan Clan’s lands. Once in Cowan land, we would turn south into the forest then loop east into the Illiais Jungle. And hope we weren’t too late.

We mounted the horses. Tauno and Marrok once again led us. The point where the Daviians had turned around was obvious even to me. The hard-packed sand had been scuffed where they stopped, and only flat unblemished sand continued westward.

Tauno halted the horses and waited for more instructions.

“A ruse. I can smell deceit and smugness,” Leif said.

“Why so smug?” I asked. “Laying a false trail is a basic strategy.”

“It could be Cahil,” Marrok said. “He tends to think he is smarter than everyone. Perhaps he thought this would fool the Sandseeds into sending half their warriors in the wrong direction.”

I projected my magical awareness over the smooth sand. A few mice skittered into the open, searching for food. A snake curled on a warm rock, basking in the afternoon sun. I encountered a strange dark mind.

I withdrew my awareness and scanned the plateau. Sure enough there was a small area a few feet away where the sand looked pliant, as if it had been dug up and packed back down. I slid off Kiki and walked over to the patch. The sand felt spongy beneath my boots.

“A Vermin must have buried something there,” Marrok said.

Tauno snorted with disgust. “You have probably found one of their waste pits.”

With Moon Man still on her back, Kiki came closer. Smell damp, she said.

Bad damp or good damp? I asked.

Just damp.

Taking my grapple out of my pack, I started to dig. The others watched me with various expressions of amusement, distaste and curiosity.

When I had dug down about a foot, my grapple struck something hard. “Help me clear the sand.”

My reluctant audience joined me. But eventually we uncovered a flat piece of wood.

Marrok rapped his knuckles on it and proclaimed it the top of a box. Working faster to remove the sand, we sought the edges. The round lid was about two feet in diameter.

While Tauno and Moon Man discussed why the Vermin would bury a circle box, I found the lip and pried the top up. A gulp of air almost sucked the lid back down.

Everyone was stunned into silence. The lid covered a hole in the ground. And, judging by the pull of air into its depths, a very deep hole.

5

THE SUNLIGHT ILLUMINATED a few feet of the hole. Below the lip a couple rough steps had been cut into the sandstone.

“Can you sense anyone in there?” Leif asked.

Pulling a thread of power, I projected into the darkness. My awareness touched many of those dark minds, but no people.

“Bats,” I said. “Lots of bats. You?”

“Just smug satisfaction.”

“Could this be another false trail?” Marrok asked.

“Or a trap?” Tauno asked. He glanced around with quick furtive movements as if worried the sand would erupt with Vermin.

“One of us needs to go inside and report back,” Moon Man said, looking at Tauno. “I knew we would need a scout.”

Tauno jerked as if he had stepped on a hot coal. Sweat ran down his face. He swallowed. “I will need a light.”

Leif retrieved his saddlebags and removed one of his cooking sticks. “This won’t burn long,” he said. He set the end on fire and handed the stick to Tauno.

With the flaming stick to lead the way, the Sandseed scout crawled into the opening headfirst. Tempted to link my mind with his to see what he found, I forced myself to focus instead on the ground beneath my feet, trying to discover a sign of life that would indicate the end of the cave.

The jungle’s pulse throbbed in my soul, but I couldn’t tell if it came from an opening below the ground or just from being so close to it on the plateau.

Waiting proved difficult. I imagined all types of hazards in Tauno’s way and was convinced he had fallen and broken a leg or worse when he appeared at the hole’s opening.

“The steps lead to a big cavern with many tunnels and ledges. I spotted a few footprints in the dirt, but had to come back before my light died,” Tauno said. “I also heard water gurgling nearby.”

Now we knew. Vermin had gone through the cave.

“Leif, what do you need to make a light last longer?” I asked him.

“You’re not thinking about going in there, are you?” Marrok asked, sounding horrified.

“Of course. You want to find Cahil, don’t you?”

“What makes you so certain he went that way?”

I looked at Leif. Together we said, “Smug satisfaction.”

While Leif and Tauno returned to the Daviian camp for firewood, Moon Man and I discussed what to do with the horses. We would need Marrok’s tracking skills and Tauno’s keen sense of direction to find our way through the cavern. Leif and I needed to take Cahil back to the Council, so that left Moon Man.

“I am not staying behind,” Moon Man said.

“Someone needs to feed and water the horses,” I said.

Kiki snorted at me. I opened my mind to her.

Don’t need, she said. We wait then go.

Go where?

Market. An image of the Illiais Market formed in my mind. As the main southern trading post for Sitia, the market was tucked between the western edge of the Illiais Jungle and Cowan Clan lands.

How do you know about the market? I asked.

Know land like know grass.

I smiled. Kiki’s concise view of life kept surprising me with its many layers of emotion. If I could view the world the same way, I knew it would make my life easier.

Moon Man had been watching me. “Perhaps Kiki should mentor you.”

“On what? How to become a Soulfinder?”

“No. You are a Soulfinder. She can help you be a Soulfinder.”

“More cryptic Story Weaver advice?”

“No. Clear as air.” Moon Man drew a deep breath and grinned at me. “Let us get the horses ready.”

We removed their bridles and reins and packed the tack into their saddlebags. When Leif and Tauno returned, we sorted our supplies, distributing them among our packs and repacking the rest into the saddlebags. The horses would keep their saddles on, but we made sure nothing would hang down or impede their motion.

My pack weighed heavier than usual, but I had an uneasy intuition we might need a few of the items inside.

When we were ready, Leif lit the firewood torches dipped in the plant oil he had stored in Rusalka’s saddlebags. He left most of his odd concoctions and medicines behind, boasting he could find anything we needed in the jungle.

“If we find a way out,” Marrok muttered. “What will we do if we become lost in the caves?”

“That will not happen,” Moon Man said. “I will mark our way with paint. If we can not find our way through, we will return to the plateau. The horses will wait until Yelena tells them to go.”

Moon Man wrapped his muscular arm around Marrok’s shoulders. Marrok tensed as if he expected a blow.

“Trust yourself, Tracker. You have never been lost,” Moon Man said.

“I have never been inside a cave.”

“Then it will be a new experience for both of us.” Moon Man’s eyes glinted with anticipation, but Marrok hunched his back.

I wasn’t a stranger to small dark places. Before becoming the Commander’s food taster, I had spent a year in the Commander’s dungeon awaiting execution. While I wasn’t anxious to return to a confined space, I would push past my nerves to recapture Ferde.

“There are a few caves in the jungle,” Leif said. “Most of them are used as dens by the tree leopards and are avoided, but I’ve explored some.” His gaze met mine and, by the sad smile, I knew he had searched those caves looking for me.

Tauno and Marrok each held a torch. With Tauno leading the way, I followed, crawling headfirst through the small opening. Leif was close behind, then Marrok and finally Moon Man.

The torchlight illuminated the three-foot-wide tunnel. Shovel marks scraped the rough walls, indicating the space had been dug. The steps turned into bumps that helped slow our progress as we slid down the sloped passageway. I coughed as the dust of our passing mixed with the steady flow of cool damp air.

When we reached the cavern, the tightness around my ribs eased. Tauno’s light reflected off stones resembling teeth. A few of these hung from the ceiling and others rose from the ground as if we stood inside the mouth of a giant beast.

“Don’t move,” Marrok ordered as he examined the floor.

Shadows danced on the pockmarked walls as Marrok searched for signs. Deep wells of blackness indicated other tunnels, and small puddles of water peppered the floor. Dripping and running water filled the air with a pleasant hum that countered the unpleasant wet mineral smell mixed with a sharp animal musk.

Moon Man hunched his shoulders and short breaths punctuated his breathing.

“Is something wrong?” I asked him.

“The walls press on me. I feel squeezed. No doubt my imagination.” He went to mark the tunnel to the surface with red paint.

“This way,” Marrok said. Amplified by either the stone walls or by fear, his voice sounded louder than usual. He showed us a series of ledges descending down a chute.

The smell rising from the chute turned sharp and rank. I gagged. Tauno climbed down. The ledges turned out to be large chucks of rocks stacked crookedly on top of one another. In certain places he hung over the side and dropped down. We followed and with some mumbling and cursing we caught up to Tauno.

He waited on the last visible ledge. Beyond him, the chute ended in a pit of blackness. Tauno dropped his torch. It landed on a rock floor far below.

“Too far to jump,” Tauno said.

I pulled the grapple from my pack and wedged the metal hooks into a crack, glad I had decided to bring it along. Tying the rope onto the hook, I tested the grapple’s grip. Secure for now, but Moon Man braced himself and gripped the rope when Tauno swung over the edge and descended.

Moon Man’s forehead dripped with sweat despite the cool air. His uneven breathing echoed off the walls. When Tauno reached near the bottom, Moon Man released the rope. The grapple held Tauno’s weight. He jumped the last bit and picked up the torch, exploring the area before giving us the all-clear signal. One by one we joined him at the bottom of the chute. We left the grapple in place in case we needed to return.

“I have some good news and some bad,” Tauno said.

“Just tell us,” Marrok barked.

“There is a way out of this chamber, but I doubt Moon Man or Leif will fit.” Tauno showed us a small opening. The torch’s flame flickered in the breeze coming from the channel.

I looked at Leif. Even though Marrok was taller than him, Leif had wide shoulders. How had Cahil and Ferde fit through? Or had they traveled a different way? It was hard to judge size based on a memory. Perhaps they hadn’t encountered any trouble.

“First explore the tunnel. See what’s on the other side,” I instructed.

Tauno disappeared into the hole with a quick grace. Leif crouched next to the opening, examining it.

“I have more plant oil,” Leif said. “Perhaps we can grease our skin and slide through?” He stepped back when Tauno’s light brightened the passageway.

“It gets wider about ten feet down and ends in another cavern,” Tauno said. Black foul-smelling muck covered his feet. When questioned about the mud, he wiggled his toes. “The source of the stench. Bat guano. Lots of it.”

Those ten feet took us the longest to traverse. And I despaired at the amount of time we used to squeeze two grown men through a narrow space. It might be impossible to catch up with Cahil and the others. And Moon Man’s panic attack when he had become wedged for a moment had set everyone’s mood on edge.

Standing ankle deep in bat droppings, we made for a miserable group. My dismay reflected in everyone’s face. And it wasn’t due to the putrid and acidic smell. Leif’s shoulders were scratched raw and bloody, and the skin on Moon Man’s arms looked shredded. Blood dripped from his hands.

Moon Man’s breathing rasped. “Go back. We should…go back.” He panted. “Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.”

I suppressed my worries about Cahil. Connecting with the power source, I gathered a fiber of magic and sought Moon Man’s mind. A claustrophobic fear had pushed logic and reason aside. I probed deeper into his thoughts to find the strong unflappable Story Weaver, reminding him of the importance of our journey. A Sandseed Story Weaver would not let himself panic. Moon Man’s breathing settled as calm reclaimed his emotions. I withdrew from his mind.

“I am sorry. I do not like this cave,” Moon Man said.

“No one does,” Leif muttered.

Keeping my thread of magic, I focused on Moon Man’s arms. Large chunks of his skin had been gouged out. My upper limbs burned with pain as I concentrated on his injuries. When I could no longer endure the stinging fire, I used magic to push it away from me. I swayed with relief and would have fallen to the floor if Leif hadn’t grabbed me.

Moon Man examined his arms. “I could not lend you my strength this time,” he said. “Your magic held me immobile.”

“What’s this?” Leif asked.

He raised my hand into the light. Blood streaked my skin, but I couldn’t find any damage. When I had helped Tula, one of Ferde’s victims and Opal’s sister, Irys had speculated that I had assumed her injuries then healed myself. I guessed it had been the same with Marrok’s crushed cheek. But seeing the physical evidence turned Irys’s theory into reality. I stared at the blood and felt light-headed.

“That’s interesting,” Leif said.

“Interesting in a good way or bad?” I asked.

“I don’t know. No one has done that before.”

I appealed to Moon Man.

“A couple Story Weavers have the power to heal, but not like that,” he said. “Perhaps it is something only a Soulfinder can do.”

“Perhaps? You don’t know? Then why have you led me to believe you know everything about me?” I demanded.

He rubbed his newly healed arm. “I am your Story Weaver. I do know everything about you. However, I do not know everything about Soulfinders. Do you define yourself strictly by that title?”

“No.” I avoided the title.

“Well then,” he said, as if that settled the matter.

“Let’s go,” Marrok said through his shirt. He had covered his nose and mouth to block the smell. “The Daviians’ trail through this muck is easy to follow.”

With Marrok in the lead, we stepped with care. About halfway through the bats’ cavern, I sensed an awakening. Sending a thin tendril of power, I linked with the dark minds above me as they floated toward a collective consciousness. Their need for food pushed at me, and, through them, I felt the exact location of each bat, of each wall, of each exit, of each rock, and each figure below. They launched.

“Duck!” I yelled as the cloud of flying creatures descended.

The drone of beating wings reached a crescendo as black bodies flew around us. The air swirled and filled with bats. They deftly avoided knocking into us or each other as they headed toward the exit, seeking the insects and berries of the jungle.

My mind traveled with them. The instinctual exodus of thousands of bats flying through the tight tunnels of the cave was as organized as a military attack. And like any well-planned event, it took time for all the bats to leave.

The muscles in my legs burned when I finally straightened. The flapping and fluttering sounds echoed from the tunnels then faded. I looked at my companions. No one appeared to be hurt, although a few of us were splattered with dung.

Marrok had dropped his torch, and his arms covered his head. He puffed with alarm.

“Captain Marrok,” I said, hoping to calm him. “Give me your torch.”

My order pierced his panic. He picked up the unlit stick. “Why?”

“Because the bats have shown me the way out.” I cringed as my hand closed on the muck-covered handle. “Leif, can you relight this?”

Leif nodded. Flames grew. When the torch burned on its own, he asked, “How far to the jungle?”

“Not far.” I led the group, setting a quick pace. No one complained. All were as eager as I to exit the cave.

The sound of rushing water and a glorious freshness to the air were the only signs we had reached our destination. The day had turned into night while we had traveled through the cave.

From the bats, I knew water flowed along the floor of the exit and dropped down about twenty feet to the jungle. The waterfall splashed onto a tumble of rocks.

The others followed me to the edge of the stream. We doused the torches and waited for our eyes to adjust to the weak moonlight. I scanned the jungle below with my magic, searching for signs of an ambush and for tree leopards. Necklace snakes were also a danger to us, but the only life I touched were small creatures scurrying through the underbrush.

“Prepare to get wet,” I said before wading into the cold knee-deep water.

My boots filled immediately as I sloshed to the edge. There were plenty of rocks below to climb on, but they were either under the water or wet. I eased off my backpack and threw it down, aiming for a dry spot on the rocky bank.

“Be careful,” I instructed.

I turned around and crouched, leaning into the force of the water. Keeping my face above the stream, I stuck my feet over the edge and felt for a foothold. By the time I reached the bottom, my clothes were soaked. At least the water had washed away the foul-smelling dung.

Once everyone climbed down, we stood dripping and shivering on the bank.

“Now what?” Leif asked.

“It’s too dark to see trail signs,” Marrok said. “Unless we make more torches.”

I looked at our ragtag group. I had a dry change of clothes in my backpack, but Tauno and Moon Man had nothing with them. The bank was big enough for a fire. “We need to dry off and get some rest.”

“You need to die,” a loud voice said from the jungle.

6

ARROWS RAINED DOWN. Tauno cried out as one pierced his shoulder.

“Find cover,” Marrok ordered. An arrow jutted from his thigh.

We scrambled for the underbrush. Moon Man dragged Tauno with him. Marrok fell. An arrow whizzed by my ear and thudded into a tree trunk. Another slammed into my backpack before I dived under a bush.

I scanned the treetops with my magic, but couldn’t sense anyone.

“Null shield,” Moon Man shouted. “No magic.”

Marrok lay in the open, unmoving. Arrows continued to fly, but they missed him. He stared at the sky.

“Curare!” I yelled. “The arrows are laced with Curare.”

The ambushers wanted to paralyze us, not kill us. At least not yet. The memory of being completely helpless from the drug washed over me. Alea Daviian had wanted revenge for her brother’s death, so she had pricked me with Curare and carted me to the plateau to torture and kill me.

Leif yelped nearby. An arrow had nicked his cheek. “Theobroma?” he asked before his face froze.

Of course! My father’s Theobroma, which had saved me from Alea. I ripped open my pack, searching for the antidote to Curare. The rain of arrows slowed, and a rustling noise from above meant our attackers were climbing down. Probably to take better aim. I found the brown lumps of Theobroma and put one into my mouth, immediately chewing and swallowing it.

Moon Man cursed and I broke cover to run to him. An arrow hit my back. The force slammed me to the ground. Pain rippled through my body.

“Yelena!” Moon Man grabbed my outstretched arm and pulled me to him.

“Here.” I panted as the Curare numbed the throb in my lower back. “Eat this.”

He ate the Theobroma lump without a moment’s hesitation. An arrow’s shaft had pinned his tunic to a tree.

I lost feeling in my legs. “Are you hit?”

He ripped his shirt free and examined the skin along his right side. “No.”

“Pretend to be,” I whispered. “Wait for my signal.”

Sudden understanding flashed in his deep brown eyes. He broke the shaft off the arrow that had missed him, and swiped blood from my back. Lying down, he held the shaft between two bloody fingers of his left hand which he placed on his stomach, making it look like the arrow had pierced his gut. His right hand gripped his scimitar.

Men called as they reached the jungle floor. Before they could discover me, I put my right hand into my pant’s pocket, palming the handle of my switchblade. Numbness spread throughout my torso, but the Theobroma countered the Curare’s effects to a point where limited movement remained. Even so, I lay still, pretending to be paralyzed.

“I found one,” a man said.

“Over here’s another.”

“I found two,” a rough voice right above me said.

“That’s the rest of them. Make sure they’re incapacitated before you drag them out. Dump them beside their companion in the clearing,” said a fourth voice.

The rough-voiced man kicked me in the ribs. Pain ringed my chest and stomach. I clamped my teeth together to suppress a grunt. When he grabbed my ankles and hauled me through the bushes and over the uneven stones of the bank, I was a bit glad for the Curare in my body. It dulled the burning sting as the left side of my face and ear were rubbed raw by the ground.

The Curare also dulled my emotions. I knew I should be terrified, yet felt only mild concern. Curare’s ability to paralyze my magic remained the most frightening aspect of the drug. Even though the Theobroma counteracted it, Theobroma had its own side effect. The antidote opened a person’s mind to magical influence. While I could use magic, now I had no defense against another’s magic.

Marrok still lay where he had fallen. The loud scrape of Moon Man’s weapon on the ground reached me before he was dropped beside me.

“His fingers are frozen around the handle,” one of the men said.

“A lot of good it will do him,” another joked.

Listening to their voices, I counted five men. Two against five. Not bad odds unless my legs remained numb. Then Moon Man would be on his own.

Once the men brought Leif and Tauno to the bank, the leader of the attackers dropped the null shield. It felt as if a curtain had been yanked back, revealing what lurked behind. All five men’s thoughts were open to me now.

Their leader shouted orders. “Prepare the prisoners for the Kirakawa ritual,” he said.

“We should not feed these men to it,” Rough Voice said. “We should use their blood for ourselves. You should stay.”

My gaze met Moon Man’s. We needed to act soon. I suppressed the desire to make mental contact with the Story Weaver. Their leader had to be a strong Warper to have created such a subtle null shield. There was a chance he would “hear” us.

The crunch of gravel under boots neared. My stomach tightened.

“I have orders to bring the woman to Jal,” the leader said from above me. “Jal has special plans for her.”

Without warning, the arrow in my back was yanked out. I bit my tongue to keep from yelling. The leader knelt next to me. He held the arrow, examining the weapon. My blood stained the smooth metal tip. At least the tip wasn’t barbed. Strange I should worry about that.

“Too bad,” Rough Voice said. “Think of the power you could have if you performed Kirakawa on her. You might become stronger than Jal. You could lead our clan.”

My lower back pulsed with pain. The Theobroma was working. Another minute and I should regain the use of my legs.

“She is powerful,” the leader agreed. “But I do not know the binding rite yet. Once I bring her to Jal, I hope to be rewarded and allowed to ascend to the next level.”

He smoothed tendrils of hair from my face. I made a conscious effort not to flinch as his fingers caressed my cheek.

“Are the rumors true? Are you really a Soulfinder?” he whispered to me. He stroked my arm in a possessive way. “Perhaps I can siphon a cup of your blood before I deliver you to Jal.” He reached for the knife hanging from his belt.

I moved. Pulling my switchblade from my pocket, I triggered the blade and rolled over, slicing his stomach open. But instead of falling back in surprise, he leaned forward and wrapped his hands around my neck.

A blur of motion beside me, and Moon Man leaped to his feet, swinging his scimitar in a deadly arc through Rough Voice.

I struggled with the leader. His weight trapped my arms. The pressure from his thumbs closed my windpipe. He attempted to connect with my mind, and would have succeeded with his magical attack if the Curare on my switchblade hadn’t worked so fast to paralyze his power.

One problem remained. Trapped under the frozen Vermin, I couldn’t breathe.

Moon Man, I called. Help!

One minute. The clang of weapons split the air.

I’ll be dead in a minute. Just push him off. A brief flurry of steel hitting steel was followed by silence. The man on me fell to the side. I freed my arms and pried his hands from my neck.

Moon Man reengaged in the battle. He fought three men. One man’s decapitated head rested next to me. Lovely.

My short blade wouldn’t last against their long scimitars and my bow was in the jungle with my pack. Gathering power, I sent a light touch to one man’s mind. Relieved he wasn’t a Warper, I sent him puzzling images to distract him.

He dropped out of the fight with Moon Man and stared at my approach with a baffled expression. The man raised his sword a second too late. I stepped close to him and nicked his arm with my switchblade, hoping Curare still clung to my blade. Unable to use his sword, the man dropped his weapon and lunged. His intent to subdue me rang clear in his mind, but I deepened my mental connection and forced him to sleep.

With only two attackers left, Moon Man had both their heads off in short order. He strode over to the man sleeping at my feet and raised his scimitar.

“Stop,” I said. “When he wakes, we can question him about Cahil’s plans.”

“The other?”

“Paralyzed.”

Moon Man rolled the leader over. The blood from his stomach wound had pooled on the rocks. After touching the man’s neck and face, Moon Man said, “He is gone.”

The cut was deeper than I thought. A felt a tinge of guilt as I scowled at the body. The leader probably had more information than the other man.

“It is a good thing. He was a Warper. We would not have gotten anything from him except trouble.”

I looked at the scattered carnage. The headless bodies cast macabre shadows in the pale moonlight. The side of my face and the wound in my back throbbed. The cool night air felt icy on my wet clothes. Tauno and Marrok both needed medical attention, and we couldn’t go anywhere until the Curare wore off. And the thought of spending the night surrounded by corpses…

“I will take care of them,” Moon Man said, reading my thoughts. “And I will build a fire. You take care of the wounded. Including you.”

Pulling the arrows from Marrok’s thigh and Tauno’s shoulder, I gathered power but couldn’t assume their injuries. The Curare in their bodies blocked my magic. An interesting discovery. It seemed when under the influence of the drug, a person couldn’t do magic or be affected by it.

I mulled over the implications as I searched in my pack. Finding a few lumps of Theobroma, I gave it to Moon Man to melt over the fire and feed to our paralyzed companions. From my own experience with Curare, I knew the drug didn’t affect the body’s ability to swallow, breathe and hear. So I told them what I planned to do.

The last of my energy faded after healing my own wound. I curled into a ball on the ground and fell asleep.

When I woke, watery streaks of color painted the sky. Moon Man sat cross-legged next to a fire, cooking a divine-smelling hunk of meat. My stomach grumbled in anticipation.

I checked on the others. Marrok, Leif and Tauno still slept. Leif’s cut had scabbed over, but I would need to heal Marrok’s and Tauno’s wounds. Moon Man had tied the Daviian prisoner’s arms and legs with some jungle vines even though the Vermin remained unconscious.

Moon Man gestured for me to join him. “Eat first before you heal them.” He handed me a sliver of meat speared on a stick. When I sniffed at the offering, he said, “Do not analyze it. It is hot and nourishing. That is all you need to know.”

“Why do you get to decide what I need to know? Why can’t you just give me the information I ask for?” My frustration extended beyond the mystery meat.

“That would be too easy.”

“What’s wrong with easy? I can understand if the most stressful aspect of my life was worrying about Bain’s next history test, but lives are at stake. Ferde could be stealing another’s soul and I might have the power to stop him.”

“What do you want? For me to tell you to do this or do that and wa-lah!” Moon Man flourished his hand in the air. “Instant success!”

“Yes. That is exactly what I want. Please, tell me.”

A thoughtful expression settled on his face. “When you were training to be the Commander’s food taster, would you know what the poison My Love tasted like if Valek had just described it to you?”

“Yes.” There was no mistaking the sour-apple taste.

“Would you trust your life on that knowledge? Or others?”

I opened my mouth to reply but paused. Now I couldn’t remember the poisons I hadn’t tasted or smelled. But I’ll never forget the tartness of My Love, the rancid orange flavor of Butterfly’s Dust, and the bitter thickness of White Fright.

“I’m talking about magic. Testing food for poisons is different.”

“Is it?”

I pounded my fist on the ground. “Do Story Weavers sign a contract or make a blood oath to be difficult and stubborn and a pain in the ass?”

A serene smile spread on his face. “No. Each Story Weaver chooses how he will guide his charges. Think about it, Yelena. You do not respond well to orders. Now eat your meat before it gets cold.”

Stifling my desire to fling the food into the fire and prove the insufferably smug Story Weaver right about my inability to take orders, I bit off a large chunk.

Spiced with pepper, the oily meat tasted like duck. Moon Man fed me two more pieces before he would let me return to the sleeping men and heal them. Tired, I snoozed by the fire.

When everyone had roused and gathered around the campfire to eat, we discussed our next move.

“Do you think they would set more ambushes in the jungle? Leave more Warpers in our path?” I asked Moon Man.

He considered my question. “It is possible. They left one at the camp who sacrificed himself. This one was supposed to come back. Our spies have determined the Daviian Vermin have about ten Warpers—eight now. Two are very powerful, and the rest have various lesser talents.”

“The ambush leader had enough magic to create and hold a null shield.”

Moon Man turned the meat roasting over the fire. “A valid and alarming point. Which means they might have been performing Kirakawa for some time.”

“What’s Kirakawa?” Leif asked.

“It is an ancient ritual. It has many steps and rites. When done correctly, it transfers the life energy of one person to another. All living beings have the ability to use magic, but most cannot connect to the power source. A person performing Kirakawa will either increase their magical power or gain the ability to connect with the power source, and therefore become a Warper.

“Their leader mentioned levels and a binding rite. They are probably using the Kirakawa to grant certain members magical abilities and increase certain Warpers’ powers. Their leader would not want all the clan members to be equally powerful.”

“How is the Kirakawa different than the Efe ritual Ferde used?” Leif rubbed the cut on his cheek.

“The Efe ritual binds a person’s soul to the practitioner, increasing their power. While blood is needed, it isn’t the medium holding the power in Efe. The soul carries the power. And the person performing the ritual must be a magician.”

“It sounds like anyone can use this Kirakawa to gain power,” Leif said.

“If they knew the proper steps. With the Kirakawa, the victim’s soul is trapped in blood. It is gruesome, too. The victim’s stomach is cut open and the heart is removed while the victim is still living. The Kirakawa is also more complex than the Efe ritual.”

“Could any magician use Efe? Or just the Soulstealer?” I asked.

“A Soulfinder could, but no one else. Is that a straight enough answer for you, Yelena?”

I didn’t dignify his comment with a reply. Instead, I asked about Mogkan, Alea’s brother. In Ixia, he had captured over thirty people, turning them into mindless slaves so he could siphon their power and augment his own. Valek and I had eventually stopped him from gaining control of Ixia, which explained Alea’s desire for revenge.

“Mogkan tortured them both physically and mentally until they could no longer bear to be aware of their surroundings. They retreated within themselves and just became a conduit for him to exploit. Their magic remained in their bodies.”

The implications over the different ways for people to abuse power raced through my mind. “Going back to the Kirakawa. If the Daviian Vermin have been performing it for a while, then they could have more than eight Warpers.”

Moon Man nodded. “Many more.”

Paranoia sizzled up my spine. Convinced Warpers surrounded us, my desire to return my friends to the safety of the plateau pressed between my shoulder blades.

However, if the Daviians wanted to find more victims for their ritual, the Zaltana Clan teemed with people and magicians. With the Warpers using a null shield, the clan would have no warning. Fingers of desperate fear squeezed my stomach as the images of my mother and father being mutilated filled my mind.

7

“HOW DO YOU COUNTER the null shield?” I asked Moon Man, failing to keep the panic out of my voice. The jungle around us darkened and I imagined predators lurking behind every tree and bush. Only the small fire we huddled around gave off any light.

“Magic cannot pierce the shield, but find a way around the shield’s edges and you can use your magic.”

“What are the shield’s dimensions?”

“Depends on the strength of the builder. The one we used in the plateau was as tall as a man astride a horse, and as wide as thirty men. But we had four Story Weavers combine their powers to build it. For one Warper, the shield would have to be smaller.”

I looked up at the trees. The ambush had come from above. Would they use the same tactic for another ambush? No. If the first attempt hadn’t worked, then a different strategy would be used. Being higher than your target had many advantages, and if I climbed into the tree canopy, I might be able to get past the edges of another null shield and discover where another ambush lurked.

Knowing my next move helped to dampen my terror for my family. I made contact with Kiki, projecting my awareness up toward the plateau.

Any trouble? I asked.

No. Bored, she replied. Go?

Yes. I’ll meet you at the Illiais Market rendezvous location.

I then told my plan to the others.

“Not without me,” Leif said. “I grew up in the jungle. I know every leaf and tree.” His body stiffened with determination.

“That is why you need to stay with them. To show them the way to the homestead. To help them avoid predators.”

Leif crossed his arms over his broad chest. But he knew I made sense, so he couldn’t argue.

“I need to question our prisoner before I go. There could be a chance the other Vermin might not be targeting my family.”

The man groaned and blinked at me when I woke him from his deep sleep. Moon Man had been right to tie his arms. There hadn’t been enough Curare left on my blade to paralyze him.

The Vermin’s tunic and pants had been ripped, and I glimpsed portions of blackish-red tattoos on his brown skin. Moon Man reached over and ripped the man’s right sleeve off.

The Story Weaver pointed to the symbols on the man’s arm. “He has made the proper blood sacrifice to prepare for the Kirakawa ritual. That ink in his skin has been mixed with blood.” Moon Man’s shoulders dropped as if he grieved. “The Sandseeds were wise to banish the old rituals.”

“You were misguided and fooled into following the teachings of Guyan,” the prisoner said. “Not wise but weak and pitiful, giving up your power to become docile pathetic Story Weavers instead of—”

Moon Man grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Docile and weak were not words I would have used to describe the Story Weaver.

“Where did you get the instructions?” Moon Man asked, shaking him.

The man smiled. “I am not telling you.”

“Instructions?” I asked.

“The details for the old rituals had been lost to time. At one point in history, we knew how to perform many different rituals to increase our power. Our clan passes information down to our children through teaching stories. Once Guyan became our leader, the evil ones who knew the required steps were killed. The information should have died with them.” He dropped the Daviian to the ground.

I remembered Dax reading a bunch of ancient tomes when we had tried to interpret Ferde’s tattoos to discover why Ferde had been raping and killing those girls.

“There were a few books in the Magician’s Keep. A Sandseed might have written the instructions and symbols down before they died. Perhaps there is another copy that the Vermin are using.” I turned to the man. “I guess you’re not going to tell us what the Vermin’s plans are either?”

He met my gaze and sneered. It was all I needed. My family could be in danger. I sent a rope of power toward his mind and rifled through his thoughts and memories, extracting the information I needed. I suppressed the pang of guilt and my recollections of when Roze Featherstone had tried to examine my mind in a similar fashion. She had thought I was a spy from Ixia, and the Ethical Code didn’t apply to spies or criminals. I could argue the same in my defense. Did that make me the same as Roze? Perhaps. The thought made me uncomfortable.

Besides a few horrid memories of watching an initial level of the Kirakawa ritual, the man knew almost nothing. Ordered to stay behind and ambush anyone who came out of the caves, his small unit had scheduled a rendezvous with the larger jungle group at a later time. Where and when the meeting would be, he had no idea. And, more important, he didn’t know what the others planned to do.

He had a few tidbits of information. I confirmed that both Cahil and Ferde had come this way and they traveled with a group of twelve Vermin.

“Fourteen is not enough to win in an attack on the Zaltanas,” Leif said, pride in his voice.

I agreed. “But winning isn’t everything.”

My anxiety to leave increased a hundredfold. A group of Vermin had entered the jungle and my clan could be in trouble. Images of my father and mother being captured and staked to the ground replayed in my mind. The thought of my cousin Nutty climbing without care through the trees and falling into a trap, hurried my preparations.

I shouldered my pack, threading my bow through its holder. “What about our prisoner?” I asked Moon Man.

“I will take care of him.”

“How?”

“You do not want to know.”

“Yes, I do. I want you to tell me everything!”

Moon Man sighed. “The Vermin were once a part of the Sandseed clan. They are our wayward kin, and they are infesting the rest of Sitia. How we deal with them is in accordance to our laws, and it is the proper way to take care of Vermin.”

“And that would be?”

“You exterminate them.”

A protest perched on my lips. What about those members who might have been misguided? But my question remained unvoiced. Now wasn’t the best time to argue crime and punishment.

Instead, I gazed at the tall trees, looking for a way up into the canopy, wishing I hadn’t left my grapple and rope in the cave. I found a long vine and used it to climb into the higher branches. After a moment to reorient myself—the Zaltana homestead was to the west—I swung over to the next tree.

I kept my magical senses tuned to the life around me, seeking the Daviians and other predators as I traveled toward home. The web of branches and crowded trees slowed my progress. After a few hours, my sweat-soaked clothes were ripped, and my skin burned and itched from innumerable cuts and insect bites.

Resting on the branch of a hawthorn tree, I scanned the area between me and Moon Man. There was no sign of any intelligent life so I linked my mind with Moon Man’s and Leif’s.

You will be safe to travel to this area, I said, picturing the small clearing below. Stay there until I contact you again.

They agreed.

After I rested, I pushed my way through the jungle’s canopy, staying alert to any sign of the Daviians. The rhythm of climbing from tree to tree combined with the steady pulse of the jungle’s undisturbed life force. When an out-of-tune presence plucked at my senses, my energies focused on the distant ripple. Engrossed, I concentrated on discovering the source. A man in the tree canopy. Before I could determine if he was friend or foe, my left hand grasped a smooth and pliant branch. Surprised, I jerked my awareness back and my mind connected with a hunter lurking in the trees.

The leaves rustled with movement. The terrifying rasp of a stirring snake surrounded me. The limb under my feet softened. I scrambled for a solid branch, and touched nothing but the snake’s dry coils. The necklace snake’s coloring blended with the jungle’s greenery so well that I couldn’t determine where the rest of it lay.

I closed my eyes and projected into the snake’s mind. It had looped part of its body between two branches, creating a flat net now closing around me. Pulling my switchblade from my pocket, I triggered the blade.

When the heavy coils of the snake dropped onto my shoulders, I knew I had mere seconds before the predator would wrap around my throat like a necklace and choke me to death. I sensed satisfaction from the snake as it moved to tighten its hold.

I stabbed my knife into the snake’s thick body. Would the Curare on the blade affect the creature? Mild pain from the thrust registered in the snake’s mind, but it considered the wound minor.

The snake contracted around me, trapping my legs and left arm. I realized the necklace snake held me aloft. If I cut through its coils, I would plummet to the ground.

Another loop brushed my face as the snake tried to encircle my neck. I pushed it away with my free arm. A coil slid up my back.

Deciding the odds of surviving a fall were better than dying by strangulation, I stabbed my blade in the nearest coil with the intention of sawing through it. Before I applied more pressure, the creature stopped.

Perhaps Curare had paralyzed the snake. I pulled the blade out and the snake resumed its tightening. The Curare hadn’t worked. But when I reinserted the knife, the creature paused. Odd. I must have found a vulnerable area. We were at an impasse.

Through my link with its mind, I sensed the snake’s hunger warring with its desire to live. I tried to control the predator’s will, but our minds were too incompatible. Even though I could feel its intentions, I couldn’t direct its movements.

I wanted to avoid killing the snake, but I could see no other way. Once dead, I should be able to cut my way back into the trees.

“Hello. Is someone in there?” a man’s voice asked.

My struggle with the snake had seized all my attention. Cursing myself for forgetting the man, I directed my mind into the tree canopy and encountered the well-protected thoughts of another magician. But Warper or Story Weaver, I couldn’t tell.

“Has the snake got your tongue?” He laughed at his own joke. “I know you’re there. I felt your power. If you don’t belong in the jungle, I’ll gladly let the snakes have you for dinner.”

“Snakes?” I asked. His speech patterns sounded familiar. Not Daviian. Not Sandseed. I hoped Zaltana.

“Your necklace snake has sent a call for help. You might kill this one and untangle yourself, but by then its kin will be here to finish the job.”

I scanned the jungle canopy and, sure enough, I felt five other snakes moving toward me.

“What if I do belong in the jungle?” I asked.

“Then I’ll help you. But you’d better make a strong case. Strange things have been happening lately.”

I thought fast. “I’m Yelena Liana Zaltana. Daughter of Esau and Perl and sister to Leif.”

“Common knowledge. You have to do better.”

Soul mate to Valek, the scourge of Sitia, I thought, but knew that wouldn’t help my case. I searched my mind for a bit of information only the Zaltanas knew. The problem was, since I had been raised in Ixia, I knew only a few things about my lost clan.

“I could send you on a wild-valmur chase, but wouldn’t it be easier if I gave you a piece of sap candy?” I held my breath, waiting.

Just when I was convinced I would have to cut my way out of the snake before its brothers arrived, a low drumbeat throbbed. More beats followed. The vibrations pulsed through the snake.

The snake relaxed. A gap appeared above my head and a green painted face smiled down at me.

He extended his hand, which was also camouflaged. “Grab on.”

I clasped his wrist. He pulled me from the snake’s net and onto a solid branch. Relief puddled in my knees and I had to sit down.

The man’s clothes matched the jungle’s colors and patterns. He placed a leather drum on the branch and played another song. The snake unraveled and disappeared into the jungle.

“That should hold them off for a while,” he said.

From his clothes and dyed-olive hair color, I knew the man had to be a Zaltana. I thanked him for helping me.

His answering nod reminded me of someone. “Who are you?” I asked.

“Your cousin, Chestnut. I was out on patrol when you were here the last time so I didn’t get a chance to meet you.”

After living in Ixia for fourteen years, I had finally returned to a home I hadn’t known existed. It had been such an emotional whirlwind, and I had met so many cousins, aunts and uncles it was unlikely I would have remembered him even if I had been introduced to him.

Seeing no sign of recognition on my face, he added, “I’m one of Nutty’s brothers.”

Nutty’s stories about her siblings had been humorous and I remembered a game I used to play with her against her brothers before my kidnapping.

“How did you control the snake?” I asked.

“I’m a snake charmer,” he said as if the title explained everything. But when I failed to respond, he said, “It’s part of my magic. The necklace snakes are very hard to spot. Not only do they blend in so well, but also they mask their life energy. Even if you’re able to sense the other jungle animals you probably wouldn’t feel the snakes. Not until it was too late.” He rubbed his hands together in appreciation. “They usually hunt alone, but if one gets into trouble it can call to the others with a low sound we can’t hear. My magic allows me to locate the snakes and hear their calls. And my drum is my way to talk to them. It doesn’t work on the other animals.” He shrugged. “But I keep the snakes away from our homestead.”

“You were out on patrol when you heard my snake?” Funny how I had become possessive of the creature that had tried to squash and eat me.

“Yes. Although, when I left this morning, I had hoped to find more than snakes.” He gave me an odd look. “I guess I just did. Why are you here, Yelena?”

“I’m following a group of people who had been living in the plateau,” I said. “They came through here. Has anyone seen them?” But what I really wanted to ask was had they attacked the clan? Were my mother and father okay?

“Seen? No. Strangers are in the jungle, but we can’t find them and…” He paused, probably considering what information he should divulge. “Perhaps it would be best for you to talk to our clan elders. Are you alone?”

“No. My brother and some Sandseeds are traveling with me.”

“In the trees?”

“On the ground.” I told Chestnut about the attack and how I had been acting as a scout for our group.

Chestnut accompanied me to the Zaltana homestead. It contained a vast network of living, sleeping and cooking areas connected by bridges and suspended above the ground. Hidden by the thick jungle vegetation, the homestead was hard to find, but once inside the complex, I continued to be amazed the tree canopy could camouflage such a collection of rooms.

Built of wood, the floors of the buildings were anchored to wide branches. Ivy grew on the outside of all the walls to hide their shape. Almost all of the furniture was constructed of wood, and rope hammocks provided comfortable places to sleep. Handcrafts made of jungle items like seeds and sticks decorated the various rooms, including animal sculptures created by colored pebbles glued together.

The main throughway of the homestead tended to be common areas of each of the families within the clan. The living and sleeping quarters branched off from the public rooms.

Besides being extensive, the homestead was also well defended. The Zaltana magicians kept a vigilant watch for any strangers.

After our arrival, Chestnut hurried to find the clan elders and I scanned the path back to Moon Man. Once I was certain that the way was clear, I made contact with the Story Weaver’s mind.

Come, I told him. Come quickly.

We are on the way, he replied.

I raced to my parents’ suite. A few surprised glances and quizzical calls followed me as I dashed toward the Liana quarters, but I ignored them.

My mother, Perl, paced the living room. The air smelled like ginger and cinnamon, but her perfume distillery set up on the long table against the back wall appeared to be empty.

“Yelena!”

She flew into my arms. A few inches shorter than me, the slender woman clutched me as if to keep from falling.

“Mother. What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Esau,” she said, and cried.

I suppressed the urge to shake her as she sobbed in my arms. Instead, I waited for the flow of tears to subside before I pulled her away and looked into her light green eyes. “What about Father?”

“He’s missing.”

8

I RESISTED THE URGE to use magic to calm my mother. Many horrible scenarios played in my mind before she settled enough to tell me the details. My father had been expected back from an expedition yesterday and had failed to return.

“There was a clan meeting,” Perl said between sobs. “A couple of scouts had gotten lost, and he went to find them.”

“Lost scouts?”

She gave me a watery smile. “Some of the newer ones will lose their way. Esau always finds them. No one knows the jungle as well as he does.”

“Maybe one of the scouts was hurt,” I said, hoping to calm her and to stop myself from imagining Esau being a victim of the Kirakawa ritual. “Why was he expected yesterday?”

“Another clan meeting. The jungle creatures have been restless and disturbed and we can’t pinpoint why. When the two scouts failed to return, the clan decided everyone should stay close to our homestead. Each night we gather in the common room to make sure everyone is safe. Esau was only supposed to be gone a few hours.” Tears tracked down her cheeks.

Her face reflected the hours of worry and fear. Her long hair had more gray than black. I couldn’t leave her alone, yet I needed more information.

“I have to talk with the clan elders,” I said. “You can come along only if you promise not to get too upset.”

She agreed, but uncertainty filled her eyes. Her hand went to her throat. Maybe taking her with me was a bad idea. Perhaps Nutty could stay with her?

Perl stiffened as if with a sudden realization. “Wait,” she said before bolting toward the lift.

As I watched her pull the ropes and ascend to the second floor of the apartment, my heart filled with dread. Esau had invented that lift, using vines from the jungle and a pulley system. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything happened to him.

Panic made me fidget, and just as I was about to call out to Perl to hurry, the lift moved. My mother had splashed water on her face and had tied her hair back. She also wore my fire amulet around her neck. I smiled.

“For strength,” she said, and she met my gaze. This time only stubborn resolve radiated from her. “Let’s go.”

I thought about the fire amulet as we made our way to the homestead’s meeting room. Winning an acrobatic contest during an Ixian fire festival, I had achieved a moment of pure joy in the midst of hell. Reyad—one of my captors, the first man I’d killed—had tried to keep me from participating, and I was severely punished for my disobedience, but I knew I would do it again. I now realized the stubborn streak from both my parents had kept me fighting despite Mogkan and Reyad’s efforts to control me.

Our clan name might be Zaltana, but our family name was Liana, which meant vine in the old Illiais language. Those vines grew everywhere in the jungle, pulling down trees in their search for the sun. When cut and dried, the vines turned rock hard.

Looking at the firm set of my mother’s shoulders, I knew she had reached the point where she would no longer bend to her emotions, but do what was needed to help find her husband.

The common room was the largest area of the homestead. Big enough to hold the entire clan, the round area had a stone fire pit at its center. The black ashy remains of the fire drifted in the sunlight, streaming from the smoke hole in the room’s wooden ceiling. Benches made of branches and hardened vines ringed the pit. The scent of many perfumes lingered in the air and I remembered the first time I stood here.

The entire clan had filled the room then. Curious to see the lost child returned from—according to their viewpoint—the dead, they peered at me with a mixture of hope, joy and suspicion. My hopes for an uneventful reunion dissolved when my brother declared to all that I reeked of blood.

Chestnut interrupted my reminiscence by introducing me to the clan elders. “Oran Cinchona Zaltana and Violet Rambutan Zaltana.”

They bowed in the formal Sitian greeting. Their dark faces creased with worry. These two dealt with the day-to-day problems of the clan when our clan leader, Bavol, was at the Citadel. Missing scouts plus unexpected guests equaled big problems.

“Your friends have reached the palm ladder,” Violet said. “When they climb up, they will be escorted here.” A slight smile flickered across her face.

Relieved they had arrived safely, I projected my awareness to encourage Leif to hurry. When Leif opened his mind to me, his annoyance was clear.

You should have taken me with you to search for the Vermin, he said. Leif’s muscles ached from the day-long march through the jungle. The trails tended to get overgrown quite fast in the steamy warmth, and Leif had had to cut a path for the others with his machete.

We can fight about it later, I said. Right now I need you here.

I can’t leave Tauno.

Leif and Marrok had reached the tree canopy, but through Leif’s eyes I saw Tauno frozen about halfway up the rope ladder, clutching the rungs with a death grip.

I moved my awareness to Tauno. Although he couldn’t hear my words in his mind, I sent him calming emotions, reminding him how he had climbed down from rocks in the blackness of the cave. I chased his memory of that descent and realized why he hadn’t been frightened then.

Close your eyes, I instructed.

He did. Tauno relaxed his hold and climbed the ladder.

I pulled away and reconnected to Leif. Hurry.

By the time Leif and the others joined us, I felt my desire for action pushing out, threatening to explode. I updated the clan elders on what I knew, but the only information that Oran and Violet added was the direction that the lost scouts had been assigned. South and east, and Esau had gone east first to find them.

“It has to be the Daviians,” I said. “We have to rescue them before they can do any part of the Kirakawa ritual.”

“Let’s go.” Leif held his machete tightly, a fierce countenance on his square face.

“You do not know for sure if the Vermin have your father,” Moon Man said. “Or where they are. Or how many Warpers there are. Or how well defended they may be.” The words tumbled out in a rush. Moon Man’s eyebrows pinched together, reflecting his obvious discomfort with being surrounded by walls.

“All right, Mr. Logic. How do you propose we get this information?” I asked.

“Marrok and Tauno will search for trail signs and report back.”

“Where?” I asked.

“To the east.”

“And stumble into the same ambush as my father? They’ll be caught and killed,” I countered. “It’s too risky to send people out there. The jungle is the perfect setting for ambushes. Unless—” A sudden idea circled in my mind. I thought it over, looking for any holes. If the Daviians hid behind a null shield, no magic could pierce it, but mundane physical things like sound and light would.

“Unless,” Leif prompted.

“Unless we could get a bird’s-eye view,” I said.

“They probably have men stationed in the trees,” Marrok said. “Isn’t that how the scouts would have been captured?”

“Actually I was being literal. I could link with one of the birds in the jungle and see out through its eyes.”

“You will not see much during the daytime,” Moon Man said. “The Vermin will be well camouflaged. In the night, they will need a small fire and the moon to perform even the first level of the Kirakawa ritual.”

A cold wave of dread washed over me. “The moon rose last night.”

“Too soon. They need time to properly prepare themselves.”

“For someone who claims the old rituals have been lost, you certainly know a lot about them,” Marrok said. Accusation laced his voice.

“The specifics of the ritual have been forgotten, but some knowledge about them has been included in our teaching stories,” Moon Man replied, meeting Marrok’s stare. “It keeps us from making the same mistakes over and over and over again.”

A warning to Marrok or just cryptic Story Weaver advice, I couldn’t tell. Marrok rubbed his healed cheek. He tended to stroke the spot whenever he was upset or frightened. The wounds from Cahil’s beating went deeper than shattered bone fragments. Broken trust was harder to fix than bones. I wondered if Marrok would change his opinion about Moon Man if he knew the Sandseed had helped repair his injuries.

“Can a bird see at night?” Leif asked, bringing our attention back to the problem at hand.

“There’ll be light from the fire,” Marrok said.

“But what about guards in the trees or outside the firelight?” Tauno asked. “We need to know how many Vermin are there.”

I considered the difficulties and a solution flew into my mind. “Bats.”

Tauno hunched over. “Where?”

“I’ll link with the bats to find the Vermin. Their fire should attract insects the bats like to eat,” I said.

“Can we afford to wait until dark?” Leif asked. “What if Yelena can’t locate them with the bats? Then we will have wasted time that could have been spent searching for Father.”

“Yelena will find them,” my mother said. She had kept her promise and controlled her emotions during our discussion. Her confidence in me was heart-warming, but I still worried. Three lives were at stake.

“What happens when we find the Vermin?” Marrok asked.

“An army of Zaltanas could capture them,” Leif said.

“That might or might not work,” Moon Man said. “It will depend on how many Warpers they have with them.”

“No. It’s too risky.” Oran Zaltana broke the silence he had held during our discussion. “I won’t send clan members until we know what and who we’re dealing with.”

I glanced at the floor beneath the ceiling’s smoke hole. The patch of sunlight had shifted. It would be dusk in a couple hours. “Let’s find the Vermin first and determine their strength. Everyone else should eat and rest. It might be a long night.”

When we filed out of the common room, Chestnut touched my arm. He had stood apart from our group as we talked. His dark brown eyes showed concern. “Esau is my favorite uncle. Let me know if I can help.”

“I will.” I followed Leif and Perl back to her apartment. She made us sit down on the couch Esau had built from vines. The leaves in the cushions crackled under my weight. Perl went into the kitchen and fetched a tray of food and tea. Our mother hovered over us until we ate. I pushed the fruit and cold meat past my numb lips and chewed without tasting.

Eventually fatigue from climbing through the jungle caught up to me and I dozed on the couch. Nightmares about serpents coiling around my body plagued my sleep as they hissed in my ear.

“—wake up. It’s getting dark,” Leif whispered.

I blinked in the gray light. Perl, curled in a ball, dozed on one of the armchairs. Moon Man stood near the door to the apartment.

I woke my mother. “Can you fetch the clan elders? We’ll need to make plans once I’ve found Esau.”

She hurried out the door.

“Where do you want to go?” Leif asked.

“Upstairs, to my old room,” I said and headed for the lift.

Leif and Moon Man joined me in the closet-size lift. Two thick ropes went through holes in the ceiling and floor. Moon man bent over to fit. His breath came in uneven huffs and he muttered about Sandseeds, the plains and suffocating.

Leif and I pulled on the ropes and the lift began to move. We ascended to the upper level and walked down the hallway. My room was on the right. Pulling back the cotton curtain, I let Leif and Moon Man precede me into the small clutter-filled space.

A few years after my kidnapping, Esau had started using the area for storage. Fourteen years of collecting jungle samples had resulted in rows and rows of shelves filled with glass containers of every size and shape. The only places free of the assortment were a small bed and a wooden bureau.

Wanting to focus all my energy on linking with the bats, I stretched across the bed. “Try to keep all distractions away from me and be ready to help.”

Leif and Moon Man signaled their understanding. Both had enough magical energy I could draw from if needed. I tried to keep the horrible thoughts about Esau’s plight in the back of my mind as I projected my awareness toward the mouth of the cave. The bats would soon be leaving their roost in search for food.

My mind met the dark consciousness of the bats. They didn’t perceive the world by sight, but by sensing objects and movement around them. Unable to direct them to where I wanted to go, I flew with them, my mental perception floating from one bat to another, trying to make sense of my location in the jungle. The flutter of wings and hum of insects cut through the silent night air.

Even though the bats had spread over many miles, they remained connected to each other, and I soon had a detailed mental image of the jungle. It was a bird’s-eye view without colors—just shapes, sizes and movement. In my bat mind, the trees and rocks were not visual, but in scapes of sound.

The straight walls of the Zaltana homestead felt odd to the bats. They avoided the clan’s dwellings, but I jumped over to the minds flying east of the homestead.

Frustrated because I couldn’t affect their movements, I had to wait and watch until one bat found a small campfire. I channeled my awareness on the bat as it dived and flew through the hot rising air, snatching the insects that danced above the light.

Instinctively avoiding the creatures below, the bat stayed high in the air. I used the bat’s senses to determine the number of Vermin. Three around the fire, two crouched in the trees and four stood guard outside the camp. A pair of tents were close to the fire. Three unmoving forms lay flat on the ground next to them. Alarmed, I focused my attention on them until I felt their chests rise and fall.

When I had the exact location of the Vermin’s camp in my mind, I withdrew from the bat’s consciousness.

“There are nine of them,” I said to Leif and Moon Man. “I don’t know how many are Warpers.”

“We should have enough Zaltana magicians to overpower them,” Leif said. “If we could surprise them, it would give us the advantage. Can you form a null shield?” Leif asked Moon Man.

“No. That is not one of my skills.”

I sat up. A wave of dizziness crashed into me and I hunched over until the feeling passed. Linking with the bats had used my energy. Moon Man put a steadying hand on my elbow and his strength coursed through me.

I thought about what Leif said. If we attacked with a large group, the Vermin would know we were coming, and they would either flee and hide again, or fight back. Either way they would have time to kill their prisoners. The element of surprise was key, but how to achieve that?

“Could Tauno shoot the guards with Curare-laced arrows and immobilize them?” Leif asked. “Or could we blow treated darts through reed pipes?”

“Too many trees,” Moon Man said.

“It would be hard in the dark,” I agreed. “We could get close and jab them.”

“But what about the guards in the trees? Getting close without alerting them is a difficult if not impossible maneuver,” Leif said.

If I’d had the ability to control the bats, I could use them as a distraction. We needed something else to cause a commotion. I followed the logic and found an answer.

Leif, sensing my mood, smiled. “What are you scheming, little sister?”

9

WE DIDN’T HAVE MUCH TIME to waste. Leif, Moon Man and I rushed down to my parents’ living area. Perl had returned with Oran and Violet.

“Did you find them?” Perl asked.

“They’re about three miles southeast of us.”

“We’ll need some magicians and soldiers,” Leif told Oran.

“How many are there, and what do the Vermin plan to do?” Oran asked me.

“Nine. And it doesn’t matter what they plan. The Vermin have Esau and your scouts. We need to rescue them!”

Oran hemmed and hawed. “We should consult Councilman Bavol—”

“Bavol’s at the Citadel. It will take weeks to get a reply.” I suppressed the desire to wrap my hands around Oran’s thin neck.

“We can’t leave our homestead unprotected,” Violet said. “We’ll call a meeting and request a few volunteers.”

Sitians! I thought in exasperation, couldn’t do anything without consulting a committee. “Fine. Call your meeting. Do whatever.” I shooed Oran and Violet out the door.

“Yelena—” my mother began.

“You can scold me later. We’re leaving now.”

Leif and Moon Man looked at me as if waiting for orders. “Get Tauno and Marrok. I’ll catch up to you at the base of the ladder.”

“Where are you going?” Leif asked.

“To get our distraction.”

They hurried from the room and I was about to follow when my mother grabbed my arm.

“Just a minute,” she said. “There are only five of you. What are you planning? Tell me now or I’m coming along.”

That Liana stubbornness radiated from her and I knew her threats weren’t idle. I sketched a brief outline of my plan.

“That won’t work without some help,” she said.

“But I’m going to—”

“Need more incentive. I have just the thing. Go. I’ll meet you at the base of the ladder.” Perl rushed off.

After a few minutes of frantic searching, I found what I needed. By the time I slid down the ladder, the others were ready. Shafts of bright moonlight pierced the darkness of the jungle floor, giving just enough light to make out the shadowy shapes of the tree trunks.

I told Tauno and Marrok how to approach the Vermin camp and guards and instructed them on where to position themselves nearby. “No noise. Keep your distance. Wait for my signal before attacking.”

“Signal?” Marrok asked. His face hardened into grim determination, but uncertainty lurked behind his eyes. Even though Cahil had issued orders to his men, Marrok had really been the one in charge.

“Something loud and obnoxious,” I said.

Marrok frowned. “This isn’t the time to joke.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

After a mere moment’s hesitation, Marrok and Tauno set off.

Moon Man stared after them. “What about us?”

There was a faint rustling from above as someone took hold of the rope ladder. A few heartbeats later, Chestnut joined us on the jungle floor. He wore a dark-colored tunic and pants, and his drum was tied to his belt. The green paint and dye had been washed from his hair.

“I’m glad I could help,” Chestnut said. “But you need to know I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?” Leif asked. “Yelena, what’s going on?”

“I’m hoping Chestnut will be able to call a few necklace snakes to join the Vermin’s party.”

“Ah. Your distraction,” Moon Man said.

“How close do you need to be?” I asked Chestnut.

“Probably within a mile, but it’ll all depend on how many snakes are around.” He hesitated. “I’m used to chasing them away, not calling them. What if it doesn’t work?”

As if on cue, the rope ladder swung with the weight of another person. Perl descended. She moved as graceful as liquid, and I would have bet Nutty hadn’t been the only Zaltana child to drive her parents crazy by learning to climb before she could walk.

“Here.” My mother handed me ten grape-size capsules and several straight pins. “Just in case your first plan fails.”

“What if the second plan fails?” Leif asked.

“Then we’ll storm the camp and hope for the best. Come on.” I put the capsules in my pocket, put the pins through my shirt so they didn’t stick me, adjusted my pack so its weight rested between my shoulder blades, and pulled my bow.

“Be careful,” Perl said.

I hugged her before setting off. While I had told Marrok and Tauno to take a wider more circuitous path to the Vermin, I wanted to lead the three men straight toward them. Once again I made a light mental connection to the bats flying above us. Guided by the bats’ shape map of the jungle, I moved with ease through the tight trail even though the tree canopy blocked the dim moonlight in places.

The jungle’s night sounds echoed in the damp air. A howler bat cried in a loud staccato. Valmurs climbed and swung through the trees. The rustle and shake of branches and bushes hinted at the unseen activity of other night creatures.

About a mile from the Vermin camp, I halted. Chestnut leaned his forehead on a nearby tree and power brushed my skin.

“There is only one snake nearby,” he said. “He is waiting for the men in the trees to stumble into his trap. Necklace snakes are not active hunters. They prefer to lie in wait, using the element of surprise.” Chestnut looked at me. “And I don’t want to teach them how to hunt.”

“That is a good point,” Moon Man said.

“Now what?” Leif asked.

“I’m thinking,” I said.

“Think faster,” Leif urged.

One snake wasn’t enough. Time for Perl’s suggestion. I handed everyone two capsules and a pin. “Get as close to the guards as you can. Poke a small hole in the capsule and squirt the liquid near them. Don’t get it on you,” I instructed.

“Why not?” Leif asked.

“You’ll have a necklace snake trying to mate with you.”

“Gee, Yelena. I’m so glad you’re home,” Leif grumbled. “It’s good to know Mother is doing something useful with her time.”

“I thought your mother made perfumes,” Moon Man said.

“It all depends on how you look at it,” Chestnut said. “To a male necklace snake, that stuff is a perfume.”

“There are six guards. Moon Man, Leif and I will each spray two,” I said. Taking off my pack, I stashed it behind a tree. “Chestnut, you stay back here. Can you keep the snakes from grabbing us when they come?”

“I’ll try. They have an excellent sense of smell so get clear once you spray that stuff.”

“What about the guards in the trees?” Leif asked.

“Aim high and be quiet about it.”

Leif muttered to himself as the three of us fanned out to approach the Vermin guards. Chestnut stayed behind to communicate with the predators while we moved into position. Once our distraction arrived and the guards became busy dodging amorous snakes, Leif and Moon Man would find Marrok and Tauno and await my signal. I would spy on the Vermin in the camp.

I crept through the trees, seeking a sign of the guards. I disconnected with the bats and reached out with my mental awareness, searching for the Vermin.

Beyond the outer guards, I knew the camp held six people, three Daviians and three Zaltanas, yet I couldn’t detect them, which meant someone had erected a null shield. At least one of the Vermin was a Warper and he could be performing one of the Kirakawa rites while we snuck around in the dark. It was then I realized the sounds from the jungle had ceased.

My heart drummed a faster beat as my stomach cramped with fear. A presence hovered above me and I connected with a man crouched in the lower branches of a tree. His mind was alert for signs of intruders, but he hadn’t detected me. Poking a hole in one capsule, I sprayed the liquid along the tree’s trunk, and then slipped away.

Five minutes later, I found my second guard. She failed to notice my approach and I squirted some of Perl’s snake perfume on the bushes near her. I hoped she would rub against them at some point.

As I retreated, I tripped over a buttress root and fell. I turned over on my back in time to see her aim an arrow at me.

“Freeze,” she shouted. “Hands up.”

So much for being quiet. I raised my hands and cursed myself for not reestablishing my link with the bats. Through their eyes, I never would have tripped.

She called to another guard.

“Stand up slowly,” she ordered. “Leave your weapon.”

My bow rested on the ground within reach.

She stepped closer and peered at me in the semidarkness. The guard gasped and said, “Soulfinder.”

I rolled as her weapon twanged and snatched my bow. The arrow stuck the dirt. I jumped to my feet, swinging my staff in a wide arc. The end of my weapon caught her behind her ankles. I yanked her feet out from under her. She went down with a loud oath. The black shape of her partner grew bigger as he ran toward us. Great.

The air filled with a strange rasp as if a person had pulled a rope from a wooden holder very fast. The noise grew louder and came from all directions. The three of us stopped. All thoughts of fighting banished as we searched for the source of the sound.

A necklace snake slithered past my legs. It aimed for the female guard and wrapped around her with amazing speed. All my preconceptions about a slow-moving creature dissipated.

The other guard looked at his partner and bolted. Another snake slid after him. The vibrations of the necklace snakes and Chestnut’s drum thrummed in my chest.

I projected into Chestnut’s mind for an update. He kept the creatures from going after us, but he didn’t know how long he could maintain control.

Faster is better, he said.

Right. I switched my awareness to Moon Man. He and Leif had marked the other four guards. They waited with Marrok and Tauno for my signal.

Running toward the campfire, I avoided snakes, terrified guards and broke through the null shield. I stumbled for a moment as an array of thoughts and emotions washed over me. The air was charged with magic and fear. My panic pressed on my back, but I forced myself to slow down.

When I reached the edge of the Vermin camp, my blood turned to ice. Three men pulled out the stomach of one of the prone forms on the ground. The Vermin turned their attention to me, their surprise evident in their openmouthed gapes. I had moved without realizing it and stood in the middle of their camp, screaming at them to stop.

10

WE BLINKED AT EACH OTHER for a stunned moment. Blood and gore dripped from the Vermin’s hands. The three men then returned to their macabre task, ignoring me. Astonished, I moved toward them, raising my bow to strike when a blistering force slammed into me from behind as if I’d been struck with a red-hot iron pan.

I hit the ground hard. My bow flew from my grasp. My breath whooshed out. Searing pain clung to my back; I rolled over, convinced my clothes were on fire. Gasping for air, I thrashed on the ground until I spotted what had attacked me. I froze in horror. The Vermin’s campfire had grown to three times its previous size. A man stood in the midst of the roaring bonfire.

The man stepped from the burning wood. Scorched black from head to toe, small flames clung to him like feathers. He advanced toward me. I broke my paralysis and scrambled away from him. He stopped. A trail of fire linked him with the campfire.

“Did I surprise you, my little bat?” the man asked. “Counted nine when there really were ten. Hot little trick.”

He knew my consciousness had flown with the bats. But who was he?

I scanned the surrounding jungle, looking for my backup. Leif and my friends were at the edge of the clearing. Their arms and hands were raised as if they protected their faces from a searing wind. Sweat and soot stained their clothes and they averted their gazes from the man.

“No help from them, my little bat. They will burn if they come any closer.”

I tried to project into the flaming man’s mind, but his mental defenses proved impenetrable, a Warper of incredible strength. Running out of options, I glanced behind me and caught sight of my bow.

The blazing Warper pointed and a line of fire appeared between me and my weapon. I jumped to my feet. The heat singed the hair in my nose. The moisture evaporated from my mouth. I tasted ashes. A wall of hot air pushed against me and the Warper was before me. Yet his connection with the burning wood remained.

“Fire is your downfall, little bat. Can not call it. Can not control it.”

My body roasted as if I had been staked to a spit over a giant campfire. I cast my awareness into the jungle, hoping to find help. Nothing but the panicked thoughts of my friends and one curious necklace snake nearby.

Just when I thought I would faint, he extended his hands and a bubble of cool air caressed my skin. The break from the heat was an intoxicating relief. I swayed.

“Take my hands. I will not burn you. Travel with me through the fire.”

“Why?”

“Because you belong to me.”

“Not good enough. Many others have made that claim.”

“I need you to complete my mission.”

“Which is…?”

The flames on his shoulders pulsed in amusement. He laughed. “Nice try. Take my offer or I will burn you and your friends into a pile of ash.”

“No.”

Flaring brightly, the flames jumped in size before he shrugged. “No matter.”

The cold air disappeared and I gasped. The heat’s intensity robbed my lungs of air.

“I need only wait until you go to sleep, little bat. Then I will take you.”

My throat strained as my vision scrambled. Sleep was a nice way of describing the process of suffocation. It was a strange notion, but it gave me an idea.

With my last bit of energy, I grabbed a capsule from my pocket and crushed it in my hand. The sticky liquid coated my palm, dripping down my arm. My legs buckled as I collapsed to my knees. The last thing I remembered before the world melted was a brown and green coil reaching for me.

I woke, shivering. Chestnut’s concerned face peered at me. He waved a large leaf, fanning me with cool clean air. Exhaustion lined his brown eyes.

“I guess that’s one necklace snake who’ll go away hungry,” Chestnut said.

“What do you mean?” I asked, wincing at the sharp pain in my throat. When I tried to sit, I realized we were on a tree branch.

Chestnut helped me. “If you died, I told the snake he could eat you.” He smiled.

“I’m sorry to disappoint him.”

“No matter. Perhaps we’ll have some extra Vermin to feed him.” His grin faded.

I jerked as my memory returned. “The Fire Warper! My father! The others! What—”

Chestnut raised his hand. “When the snake grabbed you and pulled you into the trees, he distracted the Warper long enough for Leif to break through the wall of heat. With Moon Man’s help, Leif was able to quench the link between the main fire and the Warper.” Chestnut glanced away. “The Warper disappeared.” He shuddered. “The remaining Vermin ran off, with Moon Man, Tauno and Marrok chasing after them.”

“And Leif?”

“Below with your father.”

Before I could ask, Chestnut said, “He’s fine. Although I fear Stono will not live to see the dawn.”

Sudden purpose energized me. “Help me get down.”

My limbs trembled as I slid and crashed through the lower branches. I hit the ground hard, but didn’t stop until I stood next to Leif. He had Stono’s head in his lap. My gaze shied away from the gruesome mess that used to be Stono’s stomach. My father and the other scout lay on the ground next to them, unmoving—still paralyzed by the Curare. I couldn’t see my friends.

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“They haven’t returned,” Chestnut said. He sank to the ground next to Leif and took Stono’s left hand in his own.

“At least he isn’t feeling any pain,” Leif whispered. Streaks of soot and sweat lined Leif’s face. Burn holes peppered his clothes. He reeked of smoke and body odor.

I knelt beside Leif. I put two fingers on Stono’s neck and felt a tentative heartbeat. Stono groaned and his eyelids fluttered.

“He’s not paralyzed like the others so the Kirakawa ritual could work,” I said.

“Can you save him?” Leif asked.

Stono’s wounds were fatal. I hadn’t healed anyone with such extensive damage before. Tula’s windpipe had been crushed when she was killed. I was able to repair the damage, but couldn’t “wake” her without her soul. Why not? According to Roze’s fire scenario, I had the power to create a soulless army.

“Yelena.” Leif’s impatience cut through my musings. “Can you save him?”

Would I be able to save myself once I assumed his injuries? I drew in a shaky breath. Only one way to find out.

Closing my eyes, I pulled power and wrapped thick strands of magic around my stomach. I reached for Stono and forced myself to examine the bloody distended mass, seeing his wounds through my magic. His wounds pulsed with an urgent red glow as I focused on them.

Without warning, Stono’s heart stopped its labor and his soul rose from his body. Instinct drove my actions as I breathed in his soul from the air and tucked it into a safe corner of my mind. I ignored his confused thoughts, concentrating on his injuries. My stomach exploded with the pain of a million sharp knives digging deep into my guts. Clutching my abdomen, I curled into a ball. Blood coated my hands, arms, and pooled on the ground. The air filled with the hot stench of body fluids.

I struggled to push the pain away, but it clung to me, eating its way through my spine and toward my heart. Leif’s voice battered at my ears. He wanted something. Annoyed by his persistence, I transferred my attention to him for a moment. His energy flooded my body. We stopped the advance of pain, but we couldn’t conquer it. It was only a matter of time before our strength failed and we would lose the battle.

Moon Man’s resigned voice sounded in my mind. I can not leave you alone. What made you believe you could counter the power of the Kirakawa ritual on your own?

I didn’t—

Know? Think? Does it matter now?

Moon Man’s blue energy added to Leif’s and together the three of us banished the pain.

I reached for Stono and laid my hand on his smooth stomach. Go back, I instructed his soul. A tingling sting pulsed down my arm. When I felt his gasp for breath, I pulled my hand back.

Too exhausted to move, I fell asleep where I lay.

At one point a hand shook me into semiconsciousness.

“Theobroma?” Leif asked, his voice a distant call.

My tired thoughts slogged through a fog. “Pack,” I muttered.

“Where?”

Leif shook me again. I batted at his arms, but he wouldn’t stop.

“Where?”

“Backpack. In jungle. Snake.”

“I’ll go,” Chestnut said.

His retreating footsteps lulled me back to sleep.

I woke choking on a foul-tasting liquid. Coughing, I sat up and spit.

“You still need to drink the rest,” my father said.

He offered me a cup.

“What is it?” I clasped the mug. The green-colored contents smelled like swamp water.

“Soursop tea. Restores the body’s strength. Now drink.”

I grimaced and put the cup to my lips, but couldn’t produce the nerve to consume it.

Esau sighed. Blood and dirt matted his shoulder-length gray hair. He looked older than his fifty years. Weariness pulled at his broad shoulders. “Yelena, I would like to get home. And your mother must be having fits by now.”

Good point. Cringing at the rancid flavor, I gulped the tea. My raw throat burned as I swallowed the liquid, but, after a few moments, I felt more awake and energetic.

The sun loomed high in the sky and the clearing was empty. “Where is everyone?” I asked.

Esau grunted. “I’ll tell you on the way home.” He stood.

Spotting my backpack nearby, I checked through the contents before shouldering the pack. My bow rested on the ground next to a wide scorch mark. I hefted the weapon, running my hands along the ebony wood. It appeared to be unharmed. A nice surprise since, during the skirmish, I had thought the Fire Warper had reduced my bow to a pile of ash.

A hot flush of fear raced over my skin when I thought of the Fire Warper. I had never encountered magic like his. I had been completely unprepared to fight him, and I couldn’t think of anyone in Sitia who could match his power. But what about in Ixia? My thoughts turned to Valek. Would his immunity to magic save him from the Fire Warper’s flames? Or would he be consumed?

“Come on, Yelena,” Esau said.

I shook off my morbid thoughts and followed my father from the clearing. He set a quick pace, and, once I caught up to him, I asked him what had happened after I had fallen asleep.

He huffed in amusement. “Passed out, you mean?”

“I had just saved Stono’s life. And yours, too.”

Stopping, Esau grabbed me in a tight hug. “I know. You did good.”

He released me just as fast as he had seized me and continued through the jungle. I hurried after.

“The others?” I asked.

“You were asleep for a full day. We thought it best for Leif and Chestnut to take Stono and Barken back to the homestead. The Sandseeds and the other Ixian fellow never came back.”

I stopped. “They could be in trouble.”

“Two Sandseed warriors and a swordsman against three Daviians? I doubt it.”

“How about against three Vermin with Curare?”

“Ah, hell!” Esau spit. “I wish I had never discovered that foul substance!” He pounded his fists on his thighs. “I had hoped the supply they stole from the Sandseeds would be almost gone by now.”

“You extracted the drug from a vine in the jungle?”

“Yes.”

“So how do they know how to make more?” I wondered out loud.

“And where are they making it?” Esau glanced around. “Maybe in the jungle. I’m going to cut down every single Curare vine and burn it,” Esau vowed.

I put a hand on my father’s arm. “Remember why you searched for it. There’re plenty of good uses. Our immediate concern should be for Moon Man and the others. I’m going to try to contact him.”

Gathering power, I projected my mind into the surrounding jungle. My awareness touched a variety of life. Valmurs swung through the tree canopy, birds perched on branches, and other small creatures scurried through the underbrush. But I couldn’t locate Moon Man’s cool thoughts.

Did the Vermin have him hidden behind a null shield? Was he dead? I searched for Tauno and Marrok, also to no avail.

My father said, “Let’s go home and figure out a way to find them. All of them, including the Curare-making Vermin.”

He reminded me of the other Vermin guards we had sprayed with the snake perfume. “We can question the Daviian guards. Are they at our homestead?”

Esau tugged on his stained tunic as if deciding how to tell me something unpleasant. “When you were picked up by that snake, the creature wasn’t happy to discover you weren’t a female snake. So in order for Chestnut to keep you from being devoured, he had to concentrate all his efforts on saving you.” He paused.

“And that means…?”

“He lost control of the other snakes.”

“The guards are dead?”

“An unfortunate development, but there is an upside,” Esau said.

“Which is?”

“Now there are four very full necklace snakes who won’t be bothering the Zaltanas for a long while.”

I washed as much dried blood and sticky gore from my body as I could in the small stream flowing underneath my clan’s homestead. My mother would worry and fuss over my disheveled appearance despite the fact I would be standing before her safe and sound.

Climbing the ladder into the tree canopy, I mulled over recent events. There might be a group of Daviian Vermin working in the jungle, gathering vines and distilling Curare. I had no idea where Ferde and Cahil had gone or where my friends had disappeared to. And there was a Fire Warper on the loose who could possibly jump out of any campfire in Sitia. My life in Ixia as the Commander’s food taster sounded like a vacation in comparison.

Why had I wanted to leave Ixia? An order for my execution for being a magician had been one compelling reason to escape to Sitia. That and wanting to meet my family, whom I had no memories of until Moon Man unlocked them. Well, I’d met my parents and the execution order had been revoked. The thought of returning to Valek and Ixia tempted me.

I reached the top of the ladder and arrived into a small receiving room made of branches tied together. Esau hadn’t waited. The Zaltana guard stationed there informed me my father would meet me in my parents’ living quarters.

Walking toward their apartment, I marveled at the ingenuity and craftsmanship of the vast complex of living areas built above the jungle floor. The Zaltanas were resourceful and determined and stubborn. All traits I had been accused of possessing.

I wondered if those qualities would be enough to counter the Fire Warper. Did I have the experience or magical knowledge to find Moon Man, recapture Ferde and stop the Vermin from killing more people?

The daunting and overwhelming to-do list would not deter me from making the attempt or die trying. But how many would be hurt or killed in the process because of me?

11

I NEVER REACHED my parents’ suite. My cousin Nutty intercepted me en route, relaying a message to go to the common room. She scrunched up her face and tsked over my ripped and stained clothes.

“I have a change in my pack,” I told her.

“Let’s see then.” She held out her long thin arms, waiting.

Knowing it was useless to argue with her, I opened my bag and showed her the other set of skirt/pants and cotton top she had sewn for me. I thought a lifetime’s worth of events had happened since then, but in reality it had only been two seasons.

Nutty examined the clothes with a dismayed purse to her full lips. “You’ll need some new ones. I’ll make them for you.” With a slight nod of farewell, she hopped up into the tree branches with the grace and speed of a valmur, disdaining the practical rope bridge.

“Oh, snake spit,” she called from above. “I’m supposed to fetch Uncle Esau and Aunt Perl.” She changed directions and disappeared through the trees.

I reached the common room. Oran, Violet, Chestnut and the two scouts stood together. My strong relief over the absence of a fire in the central pit alarmed me. If I was afraid of a simple hearth fire, what would I do when faced with the Fire Warper again? I avoided thinking about that scenario and focused my attention on the matter at hand.

When he saw me, Stono sat down. His face drained of color, and I worried he would faint. He muttered a thank-you to the floor, evading my gaze. Oran and Violet continued to question Chestnut on the necklace snakes.

Chestnut stammered and fidgeted. “I wanted to help.”

“You didn’t have our permission,” Oran said. “And now how many are dead?”

“Six,” Chestnut said in a quiet voice.

“Good for you, Chessie,” Stono said. “I wish you had killed them all. Pulled out their guts and strangled them with it!” Stono’s eyes lit with murderous intensity.

The elders rounded on Stono. Shock mirrored on their faces.

Violet recovered first. “Stono, you’ve had a difficult time. Why don’t you go and get some rest,” she ordered.

He stood on trembling legs and shuffled a few steps, but paused next to me.

“I’ll kill the snake that tried to eat you if you want,” he whispered in my ear. “Let me know what I can kill for you.”

I turned to protest, but he moved away.

“What did he say?” Oran asked.

What, indeed? An offer of revenge on a snake or something more disturbing. “He said he would like to help me.”

“Not without our permission.” Oran puffed up his chest with importance.

“You can’t just use our clan members as your personal army. Taking Chestnut into an unknown, dangerous situation that could have killed him was wrong.”

I had had enough of Oran Cinchona Zaltana. Stepping close to him, I said, “Could have, but didn’t. If we had waited for your permission, you would have lost three clan members. And I wouldn’t debate too long on how you’re going to search for a possible nest of Vermin living in your jungle. If you wait too long, they’re liable to multiply.”

“What are you talking about?” Violet asked.

It was then that Esau and Perl joined us. Having heard my warning, Mother touched her throat, and my father’s grim expression deepened.

“Father, could you inform the elders about the potential threat? I have other business to attend to,” I said.

“Where are you going?” Perl asked.

“To find my friends.”

I found Leif in our parents’ quarters. He was sound asleep on the couch and it occurred to me that I didn’t know if he had his own rooms within the Zaltana homestead. Esau had knocked down the wall to Leif’s room to expand his work area. Unwilling to bother my brother, I tiptoed past him and went up to my room. Soon the sun would set and I wanted to fly with the bats.

Lying down on my narrow bed, I felt sleep pull at me. I resisted, thinking of Moon Man. He had helped me and Leif in healing Stono. Perhaps the effort had exhausted him and rendered him unable to respond to my search.

As the light dimmed, I drew magic from the power source and projected my mind into the jungle. Finding the collective consciousness of the bats, I joined in their nightly hunt for food.

I floated from one bat to another, sensing the space below and around. On the lookout for any fires or signs of people, I coasted through the air, feeling the sun leave the sky. I wondered how the bats could know the size and shapes of their surroundings without seeing them. Was it a skill I could learn? My magic let me feel living beings, but I couldn’t sense anything from the lifeless objects in my path.

The bats invaded every section of the Illiais Jungle. Nestled below the Daviian Plateau, the jungle wasn’t large. Two days of hard walking would see a person from one end to the other. The Illiais Market marked the western border of the jungle. A few bats swooped close to the market campfires, but they avoided the gritty air and noisy crowds of people.

I pulled my awareness back. Having found no physical signs of Moon Man or the others in the jungle, I decided Leif and I would travel to the market tomorrow. The market was the rendezvous location we had set back on the plateau. If Moon Man followed the Vermin from the jungle, he would eventually look for us there. I hoped.

When I awoke the next morning, a group of people were in my parents’ living area, all engaged in animated conversation.

“It’s your turn. I delivered a wagonload of pummelo fruit last time,” Nutty said to Chestnut. “See?” She held up her right hand. “I still have the blisters.”

“I’m not stupid. They’re from staying up all night finishing the clothes you owe Fern,” Chestnut retorted. “It’s your turn to go to the market.”

“You can’t go collecting every single Curare vine, Esau. It will take you seasons,” Perl said. “And what about the Vermin? If they caught you again—” Perl’s hand flew to her throat as if she tried to block the emotion welling from her heart.

“I’m not worried about that,” Esau said. “I’m worried about what they can do with the Curare!”

“Curare can be countered with Theobroma,” Leif said to Esau. “We just need to make sure everyone has enough with them.”

“Is not my turn,” Nutty said.

“Is too,” Chestnut countered.

“Yelena!” Nutty cried, spotting me. “I’ve made another pair of skirt/pants for you.” She held a light blue-and-yellow print.

“Thanks,” I said. “You don’t have to go to the market, Nutty. I’ll deliver the clothes for you. And Leif, Theobroma is good at regaining movement, but it leaves you helpless against a magical attack. Father, can you find a way to get the Theobroma to work against Curare without the side effects? That would be more helpful than tearing down every vine. Besides, I couldn’t find any signs the Vermin are collecting vines right now, but I think sending out well-armed scouts to search the jungle from time to time would be a good idea.”

“Yelena’s here,” Leif said. “Problems solved,” he teased.

“I’ll have an easier time with the Theobroma than convincing Oran and Violet to send out reconnaissance teams,” Esau said. “They want to huddle in our homestead and hide!”

“I’ll handle Oran and Violet,” Perl said.

Her face had set in a determined frown, which she then turned on me. “You’re leaving us already?”

“We need to rendezvous with our horses and our other team members,” I said.

“Are they at the market?” Leif asked with a hopeful note in his voice.

“Too many people for me to determine. In any case we need to look for signs of Ferde and Cahil.” They could be anywhere by now and doing unspeakable things. I shuddered as the image of Stono’s ruined stomach rose in my mind.

“Not without breakfast.” Perl hurried toward the kitchen.

“I’ll go get the dresses.” Nutty bounded away.

“I’d better get my pack ready.” Leif smiled. “Never a dull day with you, little sister.”

“What do you need?” Esau asked me.

“I’m running out of Theobroma and Curare.”

He went into the lift to ascend to the second floor. Chestnut looked around at the suddenly quiet room. He fidgeted, avoiding my gaze and I realized he wanted to talk about something other than whose turn it was to go to the market.

“Now’s the time,” I said. “Once everyone comes back…”

“I can’t…” He moved his hands as if he wanted to pull his thoughts from the air. “I’m having trouble getting past…” Wrapping his arms around his body, Chestnut rocked with frustration. “How can you be so calm? Standing there, making plans, barking out orders. Six people have died. Stono came back from the dead and now he’s different—”

“Different? How?”

“It’s probably nothing. He’s had a shock, but he’s harsher somehow.” Chestnut shook his head. “That’s not the point. Six people killed by necklace snakes. That’s the point.”

I understood his problem. “You’ve never lost anyone to a snake before?”

“No one. I know it’s not a terrible death. At least they’re dead before they get swallowed. I’ve always been kind of curious…” He cringed with guilt.

“Curious to see a snake devour its prey and you feel responsible for not stopping the snakes?”

“Yes.” The word hissed out.

“Think of what would have happened if the snakes had released the Vermin.”

“You and Stono would have died.”

“I’m not happy about the death of six people either, but, considering the alternative, I can rationalize it in my mind.” A shiver raced over my skin. As long as I didn’t think about it too much. “You asked how I can be so calm. I don’t have time not to be. I would like to grieve and worry and carry on, but that doesn’t get results.”

“And results are important. Right, Yelena?” Leif asked as he entered the room. “One of the foremost things the First Magician taught me when I arrived at the Keep was to leave all sentimentality behind. Roze believes she was given the gift of magic to use for a purpose and she can’t let guilt and remorse keep her from achieving that purpose.” Leif rubbed his chin as his face settled into a thoughtful expression. “You’re a lot like her.”

“I am not,” I said.

“It was a compliment. You’re both intelligent. You’re doers. Natural leaders.”

I disagreed. I didn’t conduct myself like Roze. She was a tyrant who thought she knew everything and didn’t stop to consider other options or other people’s views. I wasn’t like that. Was I?

“Although she has a bad temper,” Leif said. “She was wrong about Ferde and Cahil’s direction. She’s not going to be happy about it.”

“That I would agree with,” I said.

“Agree with what?” Esau asked. His arms brimmed with containers.

Nutty arrived with her stack of clothes, then Perl returned with a tray full of fruit and tea. By the time we ate, the morning hours were gone.

“We better go. It’ll be a hard push to get to the market before dark,” Leif said.

“Yelena, you have to come back and have a proper visit,” my mother instructed. “Perhaps when your life settles down.” She thought for a moment, and added, “Perhaps you can make some time to visit. I don’t see things settling down for you for a long while.”

“Do you know this from your magic?” I asked.

“No, dear. From your history.” A smile quirked her lips before Perl’s stern mother expression returned long enough for her to lecture me on being careful.

With our backpacks loaded, Leif and I climbed down the ladder to the jungle floor. He set a quick pace and I hurried after him. When we stopped for a short rest, I tossed my heavy pack down and rubbed my sore back. Now I could sympathize with a pack horse…. Kiki!

“Leif, does this trail stay wide until the market?”

“As long as no trees have fallen over recently. The Zaltanas keep this pretty clear. Why?”

“The horses.”

He smacked his forehead with a hand.

I reached out with my mind and searched for Kiki’s thoughts.

She hid with Garnet and Rusalka in the forest west of the market.

Late, she said in my mind. Dirty. Hungry.

Come meet us on the jungle trail? We’ll get to the market faster. Groomed faster.

She agreed. Leif and I continued to hike for a while in silence. The insects’ droning grew louder as the sunlight began to wane.

“I keep forgetting you can communicate with horses,” Leif said. “I think you might be the first one in Sitian history.”

“Are you sure?”

“All the Keep’s students had to learn about past magicians and their powers, but Master Bloodgood would know for sure.”

Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician, was a walking, talking history book. My list of questions grew longer each day. I had so much to learn about magic and history. The sheer amount overwhelmed me at times, and reminded me how unprepared I was.

And how did I end up with these Soulfinder powers? Both my parents hadn’t enough power to be invited to the Keep so I hadn’t inherited them. Sheer dumb luck?

Leif interrupted my thoughts. “Do you know anyone else who can talk to horses?”

“The Stable Master has said he knows the horses’ moods and intentions, but he doesn’t hear their words in his mind per se.” And he had looked at me as if I had grown wings when I mentioned it to him.

“How about in Ixia?”

I considered. When the Commander had taken control of Ixia over sixteen years ago, he had ordered Valek, his chief of security, to assassinate all the magicians. Then, whenever an Ixian developed the ability to use magic—usually after puberty—Valek would assassinate the person if they hadn’t already escaped to Sitia. No magicians in Ixia, but my thoughts did linger on Porter, the Commander’s kennel master. He had an uncanny knack with the dogs, and he hadn’t needed leashes or a whistle to get them to obey him.

“Perhaps one other,” I said. “Though he would never admit to it—that would be a death sentence.”

“Maybe we could help smuggle him to Sitia.”

“I don’t think he would want to come.”

“Why not?” The idea shocked Leif.

“I’ll explain later.” I didn’t have the energy to educate Leif about the Commander’s politics. Raised in Sitia, Leif believed Ixia equaled a horrible place to live. That with Ixia’s strict Code of Behavior, uniform requirement and having to obtain permits to marry or move to another house, the citizens had to be extremely unhappy. Ixia wasn’t perfect, but there were benefits to living there. For me, Valek was one.

I missed seeing him every day, missed discussing poisons and fighting tactics and missed having a soul mate who knew what I needed before I did. I sighed. Better to have an immunity to magic like Valek than to be this feared Soulfinder. A Soulfinder, and completely useless against a Fire Warper.

The Commander’s views on magic didn’t seem so extreme now. Magic was messy. And what the Vermin had done to increase their powers remained more horrible than anything I had witnessed in Ixia.

“Leif, what about that Fire Warper?” I asked. Since the incident in the jungle, I hadn’t had time to discuss it with him. “Have you seen a magician step from a fire before?”

“No. Roze Featherstone can make huge fires that’ll consume whole buildings, but she’ll burn if she gets too close to one. Since you’ve come home, I’ve been seeing all types of strange magic. You bring out the best and the worst in people,” Leif tried to joke.

I failed to be amused. “The Vermin are using old magical rituals. Do you know anything about them?”

“The Sandseed Story Weavers’ powers are legendary. They used to be called Efe Warriors. I had thought the stories of these Warriors were exaggerated.” Leif paused for a moment. “Until now. Two thousand years ago, well before the Sitian clans united, the Efe Tribe dominated the others. Using blood magic, the Efes had no rivals. The other clans would give them whatever they wanted. Food, gold or sacrifices, hoping to placate them. A disagreement erupted between the Efe rulers and a civil war started. The ensuing battle flattened the Daviian Mountains.”

“Mountains?”

“Now a plateau.”

“Oh my.”

“Right. After that a new leader named Guyan took control of the tribe’s survivors. He declared he would plant the seeds for a new tribe in the sands that fell when the mountains were destroyed. That’s how they got the name Sandseed and their magicians were then called Story Weavers.”

The rumble of hooves interrupted Leif’s tale. Kiki’s face was a welcome sight, although her blue eyes looked tired and mud covered her copper-colored coat. Garnet and Rusalka hadn’t fared any better.

Leif and I fed and watered the horses. I wanted to groom them and let them rest, but Leif insisted we get to the market first.

“Too many predators at night,” Leif said. “The horses will attract every tree leopard in the jungle.”

Market not far, Kiki said. Jungle smells…odd.

We mounted and galloped toward the market. Being with us, the horses didn’t have to hide and we groomed them near the Zaltana campfire behind the market buildings as the sun began to set. Many clans had built permanent sites for their members to stay while trading or purchasing goods.

The Illiais Market did not close until late into the evening hours. An array of torches was lit to allow business to continue, although the commotion of customers bidding, arguing and shopping quieted in the evenings.

After the horses were settled, I strolled quickly through the collection of bamboo buildings topped with thatched roofs. Most of the owners had the bamboo shade walls down to block the cold night breeze. When I had been here before, it had been the beginning of the hot season, and the shades had been rolled up to help cool the workers.

Scanning the people at the market, I searched for Moon Man. I stopped a few customers and asked if anyone had seen my friends. One stand owner recalled spotting some men running through the market a few days ago, but he couldn’t describe them.

My imagination kicked in and visions of Moon Man, Tauno and Marrok staked to the ground for the Kirakawa ritual filled my mind. Hidden behind a null shield, I wouldn’t be able to find them, and every minute we delayed was another minute for Cahil and Ferde.

Focusing on the task at hand, I breathed in the market’s smells to ease the tightness in my chest. The exotic spices offered by the Greenblade Clan mixed with the smell of roasting meat. My stomach growled with hunger. Before I could stop to eat, I delivered the package of clothes to Fern. The small woman huffed with relief.

“I thought Nutty wouldn’t have them done in time,” she exclaimed from behind a table piled with bolts of cloth.

“I thought you sold fabric,” I said.

“I’m expanding my business. Nutty’s getting quite the reputation.”

“Is that good or bad?” I asked.

“Both. A few of the Greenblade women have gotten tired of their plain green tunics and leggings and wanted a more colorful wardrobe. They’ve been buying every single one of Nutty’s shirts, dresses and skirt/pants. I supply the cloth and we split the profits. However, the clan elders are not too happy about the break with tradition.”

As a forest-dwelling clan, the Greenblades usually wore the colors of the forest. I glanced around and, sure enough, spotted a few women wearing Nutty’s bright cotton creations. I had assumed they were Zaltanas, but upon closer examination, I could see the lighter maple coloring of the Greenblade’s skin.

In Ixia, I knew which Military District someone lived in by the color of their uniform. Here, it was all a matter of knowing how each clan preferred to dress. Interesting.

“Yelena, do you need some new material?” Fern asked. She pulled out a bolt of fabric from under her table. “I just finished this beautiful green pattern. See?” She held it up to the torchlight. “Just a hint of gold woven through the fabric. Matches your eyes perfectly.”

I laughed. “You’re quite the saleswoman. But Nutty just made me another outfit.”

Undaunted, Fern found another bolt. The rich gold color caught my attention as soon as she spread it out. “This would be for the shirt.” She watched me for a moment. “Should I send this to Nutty for you?”

“You’re evil,” I said.

She grinned. “I’m only thinking about what’s best for my customers.”

“And your cash box.”

A predatory smile flashed on her face. I paid her for the material and left before she could convince me I needed another set. I bought some Avibian honey for the Stable Master before buying some grilled beef to eat as I searched through the other market stands. Items displayed for sale or trade included handcrafts, clothing, fruit and baked goods.

I stopped for a minute to examine an intricate silver ring that held a black moonstone. Putting it down, I dismissed the thought of purchasing the ring. Only a few coins remained of the money I had earned as a Magician’s Aide.

Besides, I already wore a butterfly pendant and snake bracelet. Both had been carved and gifted to me by Valek. I fingered the pendant on my chest, wondering about Valek.

Was he in his carving room, creating another animal statue? Perhaps he was discussing military tactics with Ari and Janco or dueling with Maren. She had taught me how to fight with a bow, and Maren’s own skills had improved. Perhaps she was with Valek right now, working on some complicated project that required them to be together every day. Maybe Valek would forget about me. Be content to have Maren by his side.

No. I forced myself to ignore those thoughts. I had plenty to worry about without creating phantom worries. Determined, I headed back to our campsite. Perhaps another magical sweep of the area would reveal Moon Man and the others to me.

Leif and I waited another day for some sign of Moon Man. I prowled around the market, cursing under my breath. Each minute we delayed reduced the possibility of recapturing Cahil and Ferde. I scanned the forest with my magic, connecting with the woodland creatures. The area remained serene. Undisturbed.

That night we discussed our next move. Sitting by the fire, I stared at the flames. My bow was within reach, but I didn’t believe the weapon would do much damage against the Fire Warper.

“We should go back to the Citadel,” Leif said. “That makes the most sense.”

“What about the Sandseeds? They left their clan unprotected in the plains. They might need help, and we should tell them about Moon Man and Tauno.”

“Tell them what? That we lost them? I’d rather tell them Tauno is afraid of heights and Moon Man is claustrophobic.”

And I would rather have them with us. Delaying the decision, I said, “Our direction of travel is the same for either the Citadel or the plains. Tomorrow we’ll go north.”

Leif agreed. He spread his bedroll by the fire and lay down. Using Kiki’s saddle as a pillow, I put my cloak on and tried to get comfortable on the cold ground next to Leif.

“You should move closer to the fire. You’ll freeze,” Leif said.

“I’m fine.”

He was quiet for a while. “Perhaps Moon Man and the others are lost.”

“Doubtful. If they were lost in the jungle, I would have found them.”

“Marrok’s afraid of getting lost,” Leif said in a soft voice. “And you’re afraid of—”

“Leif, go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.” I rolled over, turning my back to him. I didn’t want him to put a name to my fear. Naming it made it true.

Cold and uncomfortable, I tossed and turned, trying to sleep. Disturbing dreams of fire and death invaded my mind. Flames would spark in a benevolent dream, here and there until they multiplied and consumed the picturesque scene, burning the images into a storm of black ash. I woke coughing on imaginary smoke, my body coated with sweat.

To avoid the nightmares, I watched the moon rise above the forest’s trees. When Ferde had been on his soul-stealing rampage, the Master Magicians and I theorized the timing of his ritual murders were linked to the phases of the moon. We were wrong. He just needed enough time to torture his victims into submitting their wills to him so he could steal their souls when they died. The old Efe symbols and ritual he used to collect their souls would have made him the most powerful magician in Sitia if he been able to gather all twelve of them.

Valek and I had stopped him from absorbing Gelsi’s soul and completing the ritual, but now he was free to try again. And Cahil helped him. How could he? I couldn’t really believe Cahil would get involved after witnessing what Ferde did to those girls. But he had assisted with Ferde’s escape from the Keep’s protective cells, and now traveled with him. Was he that greedy for power? He could no longer claim the Ixian throne. Did he want to rule Sitia instead?

I studied the moon. Waxing toward full, the bright disk lit the landscape. I wondered about the moon’s power and why certain things like the Kirakawa ritual needed the moon’s presence to work. I could feel the invisible layer of power blanketing the sky, but I felt nothing from the moon.

In a subtle flicker of the light, Moon Man coalesced out of a blue shaft of moonlight as if he had been summoned by my thoughts. He stood next to our fire without clothes or his weapon.

Are you a dream? I asked him.

Deep lines of exhaustion etched his face, but he managed a weary smile and said, Perhaps I have always been a dream. What do you think?

I think I’m too tired to discuss Story Weaver philosophy with you right now. And if you’re not real, then, at least, make yourself useful and tell me where you really are!

I am here. Moon Man slumped to his knees.

12

I JUMPED TO MY FEET and ran to Moon Man’s prone form by the campfire. Wrapping my cloak around Moon Man’s muscular shoulders, I shared energy with him.

“Are you all right? What happened? Where are the others?” I asked.

“Everyone is fine. I will explain later.” He pulled the edge of my cloak closer to his face.

“Will you? Or will you just spout some vague details in typical Story Weaver style?”

He answered with a soft snore.

I suppressed the desire to share more power with him and wake him. Sleep was the best way for Moon Man to recover his strength after using magic. Unfortunately, I couldn’t sleep. I grabbed an extra blanket from Leif’s saddlebags and spread it over Moon Man. My cloak didn’t seem adequate protection for him against the chilly night air. Despite my reluctance, I added some logs and coaxed the fire into a warm blaze.

As I stared at the dancing flames, I wondered what other surprises waited for me. The answers would be revealed in time, but my ability to deal with them remained uncertain.

Even with the loud calls of shoppers and stand owners from the bustling market, Moon Man didn’t wake until the sun reached its apex. By the time the Story Weaver finished eating the meal Leif had thoughtfully prepared for him, my impatience had built up enough energy that I could probably scale a smooth tree without the aid of a rope.

“Tell us everything,” I demanded before he could swallow his final bite.

He smiled at my agitation. Weariness still pulled at his features, but his eyes sparked with an amused glint.

“And don’t try any of that cryptic Story Weaver mumbo jumbo or I’ll…”

“What?” Moon Man asked.

“I’ll hurt you. Bad. So talk.”

Moon Man glanced at Leif.

My brother shrugged. “I’ve seen her swinging that stick around. Now, if you had your scimitar…”

“Too risky,” Moon Man said. He saw the rising fury in my eyes and wisely began telling us what had happened.

“After you and Leif distracted the Fire Warper, we chased the Vermin through the jungle. And would have caught them if you had not needed my help.” Moon Man aimed a pointed stare at me. “How is the scout?”

“Alive and well,” I said.

“Back to his old self?”

I hesitated, but I wouldn’t let Moon Man change the subject. “He’s fine. Continue your story.”

“Helping you drained all my energy and I needed to rest for a while,” Moon Man said. “Marrok tracked the Vermin to the Illiais Market and then north to the city of Booruby. It is a thriving place and we lost the Vermin’s trail. Too many people.”

He shuddered. The motion reminded me of Leif’s claim that Moon Man was claustrophobic. The city was the complete opposite of the wide open space of his home in the Avibian Plains. Located at the northern tip of the Cowan Clan’s lands, Booruby’s eastern side bordered the plains, and was too far for my magic to reach.

“Where are the others?” Leif asked.

“We rented a room at one of the inns. I left Tauno and Marrok there to hunt down any information about the Daviians while I rejoined you.”

Leif looked around the campsite. “How, exactly, did you get here?”

Moon Man grinned. “A secret Story Weaver power.”

“You used the moonlight,” I said.

He beamed his approval. “I came through the shadow world. Moonlight reveals the world of shadows, allowing access.”

“Is that where you showed me the story of my life?” I asked, remembering the dark plain that had transformed into visions of my childhood.

“Yes. It is a place where I unravel story threads to help others learn from their past as they weave their future.”

“Is it a physical place?” I had been there twice. The second time Moon Man had brought Leif and me to untangle our knots of hostility and anger toward each other. Each time, though, I had felt intangible, as if my body had turned into smoke.

“It exists in the shadows of our world.”

“Can anyone with magical powers get into the shadow world?”

“So far, only Story Weavers have the ability. But I am waiting to see if there is another who is brave enough to claim that gift.” His eyes met mine, and I caught a glimpse of shadows. I looked away.

Breaking the silence, Leif said, “However you arrived, you still need to work on your transportation skills. Maybe next time you can bring some clothes along with you.”

Leif and I bought Moon Man a tan-colored tunic and pants, and we purchased supplies for the trip. Packing the saddlebags, I readied the horses. Moon Man would ride Garnet until we reached Booruby.

We went north, taking a well-used path through the forest. I scanned our surroundings with my magic, but thought the odds of being ambushed remained low because of all the other caravans and travelers crowding the trail. Leif also used his magic to smell the intentions of the Vermin, but he couldn’t discern anything.

Once we reached Booruby, we would find the others and decide our next move. I brooded over the fact we had lost the Vermin and worried about which direction Cahil and Ferde had gone. Back to the plains or plateau? Or engaging in another scheme to gain power?

Ferde had kidnapped Tula from her home in Booruby. His only victim found alive, Tula had been sent to the Magician’s Keep. I healed her body and found her soul only to lose both to Ferde. Guilt welled in my throat. His freedom ate at my heart.

I tightened my grip on the reins, causing Kiki to snort in agitation.

Sorry. I relaxed. I was thinking about Ferde and Cahil.

Peppermint Man like apple, Kiki said, referring to Cahil.

Why do you say that? I knew Kiki loved apples.

He black apple. No one wants.

I saw an image of rotting apples on the ground.

Bad. But good come.

Kiki showed how the seeds inside grew roots and became a tree after the apple decayed. Are you saying a good thing might come from Peppermint Man? Or if he dies, it would be beneficial?

Yes.

Cryptic horse advice? Well now I could die happy—I’d heard it all.

Two days later, we reached Booruby. Clusters of wooden and stone houses marked the outskirts of the city. The forest thinned. And the clear air fogged to a haze of smoke, coal dust and sawdust that hovered over the main street’s buildings. The thick air assaulted us with the smells of garbage mixed with human waste. People bustled along the walkways and wagons full of goods choked the roads. Stores and stands had been wedged between factories and business offices.

Moon Man’s alarmed face showed his discomfort as we maneuvered our horses through the crowded streets. He led us to the Three Ghosts Inn. The stone-faced building leaned its narrow four-story height against its neighbor. Through a tight alley, we led the horses to an empty stable just big enough to hold six horses.

The stalls were clean and had fresh straw and water. A stable boy soon joined us as we took off the horses’ saddles. The quiet boy helped us groom and feed them. He shot me a shy smile when I tipped him.

We had passed a number of inns on our way into the city. “Why this inn?” I asked Moon Man as we carried our bags through the alley.

“I liked the name. Although…” He paused as if deep in thought.

“Although?” I prompted.

“I have not encountered the three ghosts. Perhaps you will have better luck.”

I laughed. “You don’t really believe in ghosts?”

Moon Man stopped and I bumped into him. He turned around, revealing his shocked expression. “How can you not? They are lost souls. You can help them find their way. Like you did for Reyad.”

I put a hand out to steady myself. “Reyad was…” The man I had killed in Ixia. The reason I had been awaiting execution before Valek offered me the food taster’s job. “How did you—”

“Story Weaver, remember? I know all the threads that are woven into your life.”

“But I thought his ghost had been my imagination. A manifestation of my fears. Why haven’t I seen any others? If I can help them, why aren’t they all around me?”

“Perhaps they are and you do not wish to see them.”

“This is weird,” Leif said.

I agreed with him. My skin crawled with goose bumps, imagining being surrounded by invisible ghosts.

“I could teach—”

“Let’s get inside.” I cut off Moon Man’s offer. Of all the things I wished he would teach me, seeing ghosts wasn’t high on my list.

“Yes, let’s. I’m hungry.” Leif patted his stomach.

We entered into a common area. Wooden tables and long benches scarred with hard use lined the slender room. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, but the area was empty.

“Dinner’s a few hours off,” a woman said. She leaned from a doorway near the back wall. Spotting Moon Man, she smiled and walked toward us. “Mr. Moon! I’m so glad you’re back. Your friends left this morning, but I suspect they’ll be coming back for dinner. Mr. Tauno loves my vegetable stew.”

The woman’s steel-gray hair was pulled back into a bun. Small wisps of hair framed her oval face. Her fair skin caused me to wonder if she was a refugee from Ixia. When the Commander had launched his campaign to take over Ixia, many Ixians fled to Sitia before the Commander closed the border.

The innkeeper scanned Leif and me with bright intelligence in her sky-blue eyes. Her gaze lingered on my hands before returning to Moon Man.

“Will you be needing another room?” she asked.

“Yes. Mrs. Floranne, this is Yelena and Leif.”

She wiped her hands on her apron before shaking our hands. “I’ll be showing you to your rooms, then.”

We followed her up the stairs. Stopping on the third floor, she led us down the slim hallway. She opened the second door on the left.

“This’ll be Miss Yelena’s room. Will Mr. Leif be staying with you, Mr. Moon, or do you need another room?”

Sweat beaded Moon Man’s face and he glanced around the tight hallway as if seeking a way out.

“Leif can stay with me,” I said, spotting two beds inside the tiny room.

Disapproval radiated from Mrs. Floranne’s stiff demeanor, but before she could comment I added, “He’s my brother.”

Her face softened and she relaxed. “I’ll be ringing the bell when dinner’s ready. Don’t be late.” She left us alone.

Leif stifled a giggle. “Interesting place you found here, Mr. Moon.”

“If Leif had been my lover instead of my brother, would she have let us stay together?”

“I do not know,” Moon Man said.

“Perhaps the ghosts dislike improper behavior,” Leif said, laughing.

Moon Man went to his room down the hall to check if Tauno or Marrok had left us a message. I mulled over Leif’s comment as we put our few belongings on the beds.

“Is it considered improper if Valek and I…? You know.”

“Yelena,” Leif said with mock indignation. “Don’t tell me you and Valek—”

“Just answer the question.”

“Some clans like the Bloodgood Clan are very strict and require a couple to be married before living together. Others, like the Zaltanas, prefer a couple to marry, but don’t get upset if they’re not. Then there are the Sandseeds who don’t even believe in marriage. They just do what they want.” He spread his arms wide. “With their aversion to wearing clothes, I don’t understand why the Sandseed Clan isn’t overrun with children.”

“We are careful with our seeds of life,” Moon Man said from the doorway. “I did not find a note. Do you want to take a walk through the city? I need…” His gaze traveled around the room. “It is better for me outside.”

Leif licked his lips. “I don’t know. I don’t want to miss dinner. That vegetable stew’ll be smelling good.”

“Do not worry. We will hear the bell. The entire city knows when the Three Ghosts Inn is having dinner.”

We left the inn and wandered through the streets. I used my magic at different locations to find a sign of the Vermin, but there were just too many people around. Their thoughts and emotions crashed against me, and I blocked them out to avoid being overwhelmed. Leif, too, was inundated with smells. We searched the city and listened for any snippets of information.

A sparkle drew my gaze. Rows and rows of glass animals were displayed inside a store window. The beautiful jewel colors of the statues radiated as if a fire had been captured within their cores. They reminded me of Tula. She had sculpted animals with glass from her family’s factory. Had she created these animals? Was this her family’s store?

I peered through the window but couldn’t see past the display. Should I go in and ask? Perhaps her family wouldn’t want to see me again. Considering what had happened to Tula and her sister, Opal, I wouldn’t blame them for hating me. After all, the only reason Opal had been kidnapped after Tula had died had been to exchange her life for mine. At the time, I had thought Ferde held Opal, but it had been Alea Daviian, seeking revenge for the death of her brother, Mogkan. Another man whose death I had been part of.

In Ixia, Mogkan had been power-hungry. He had taken control of not only Commander Ambrose’s mind, but the minds of thirty innocent people. He deserved to die, but Alea had failed to see it my way, and now she was also dead. I sighed. I should stay far away from Opal and her family.

Death followed me. And perhaps ghosts as well? Was Alea or Mogkan’s ghost haunting me? I held my hands out and turned in a circle, spinning my arms. Nothing.

Leif and Moon Man were engaged in a debate half a block away. I stepped toward them.

“Yelena!” a voice called from behind.

A woman carrying a small crate hustled along the sidewalk. A white kerchief covered her hair, and, even though soot smudged her face and hands, I recognized Opal’s bright smile and I couldn’t resist giving her a quick hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I have some business.” Before she could ask what kind, I hurried on. “Is this your family’s store?” I pointed to the glass shop.

“Oh no. Our factory is on the east side of town, practically in the plains. We sell our glassware through a bunch of stores in Booruby. You have to come visit us!” She twisted her hands together. “That is, if you want to.” She averted her face. “I mean after what I did…”

Opal yanked her focus from the ground and met mine with a sudden intensity. The shy, uncertain girl who had come to the Keep transformed in front of my eyes. “Let me make it up to you. You will come visit.”

“You did nothing wrong,” I said with conviction. “You have nothing to make up for.”

“But I pricked you with Curare!”

“Alea forced you. And I must admit, that was a pretty good trick.” I had thought once Opal was freed, the danger was gone. A near fatal mistake.

“But—”

“You can’t let the past ruin your future. Let’s call it even and start anew.”

“Agreed. Can you come to dinner this evening?” she asked. Then her mouth dropped in shock and she stepped back.

Moon Man loomed behind me, blocking the sunlight.

“You’ll not be missing dinner,” Leif said, copying Mrs. Floranne’s lilt.

Opal relaxed a bit when she saw Leif. “You can come too. And…your friend?”

I understood Opal’s fear. At first glance, Moon Man resembled Ferde. But Opal had only gotten a brief glimpse of Ferde through her sister’s memories so she could not really compare the two. I introduced her to the Story Weaver.

“I think I should wait for Tauno and Marrok to return,” Moon Man said. “You and Leif go. I will see you later tonight.”

Moon Man raised his eyebrows, giving me a signal. I opened my mind to him.

Perhaps her family will have some information about the Vermin. Ask them.

Yes, sir, I replied.

He flashed me a smile before he left. Opal hurried into the store to finish her deliveries. While Leif and I waited for her, I returned to examining the glass animal statues in the window. Leif joined me.

“Look at how they glow!” he said. “Which one would you pick? The snake?”

“No. I’ve had my fill of snakes. I like the horse, but the eyes are the wrong color. They should be blue.”

Leif laughed. “You’re biased. I’d buy the tree leopard. The detail is amazing. I wonder how the artist is able to get the leopard’s green and yellow pattern just right.”

“The pattern is inside.” Opal exited the store. “There’s a thin layer of clear glass on the outside.”

“Did Tula make these?” I asked.

Sadness welled in her eyes. She blinked back tears. “No. Tula’s are too precious to sell.”

“Opal, I’m—”

“Don’t say it,” she said. “Starting anew, remember?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Opal led the way.

I worried the girl’s parents wouldn’t be so forgiving, but they greeted us warmly. Their house and glass factory had been built on the edge of the city, surrounded on three sides by the Avibian Plains. The location explained why Ferde had chosen Tula. Keeping the kilns hot, Tula had been in the factory all night alone where no one could witness her abduction.

Opal guided us on a tour of her family’s business and we met her remaining sister, Mara, and her younger brother, Ahir. The promised meal consisted of beef stew served in a bowl made of bread.

“Less to wash,” Opal’s mother, Vyncenza, said with a grin.

Leif sat next to Mara and flirted with her. He even joined her in the kitchen to help clean up. I couldn’t blame him, the beautiful loose curls of her golden-brown hair hung past her shoulders. Kindness radiated from big tawny eyes, and she listened to Leif’s tales with rapt attention.

While the others cleared the table, Opal’s father, Jaymes, regaled me with stories about his business and his family.

“…she wasn’t paying attention and set fire to her mother’s apron! It was another four seasons before we would let Tula handle a punty iron again.” He laughed and launched into another one.

When he had run out of anecdotes, I asked him about news from Booruby.

“The Cowan elders are always arguing about how many trees to cut down, and now they want to start taxing the sand I import for my glassware.” He tsked over the prospect. “Rumors about the other clans have always been good fodder for the gossips. This year’s is about those Daviians. Everyone’s worried about them, but the magicians have Tula’s killer in jail and I’m sure the Sandseeds will take care of the rest. They always do.”

I agreed, but my mind snagged on the fact that he still believed that Ferde was locked away. Not good. Why hadn’t the Council informed the populace? Probably to avoid frightening them. Ferde was still weak, and they had hoped to recapture him by now. Should I tell Jaymes? He had two other daughters. The people should also be told about the Vermin’s Kirakawa ritual. They could help find the Vermin and keep their families protected. But would they panic and hinder our efforts instead?

It was a difficult choice to make on my own and the benefits of having a Council to vote on important issues became clearer to me. No one member could be held responsible for a bad judgment.

Delaying a decision, I asked him if his children still worked alone at night.

“No. No. I work the entire night shift. We’ve learned our lesson and won’t be caught unaware again.”

“Good. Keep vigilant. The Cowan Clan leaders are right to be worried about the Daviians.”

Opal returned, giggling. Water splotched her long skirt and she tucked a few stray strands of damp hair back under her kerchief.

“Water fight,” she said. And before her father could scold, she added, “Mama started it!”

He sighed but didn’t appear to be too upset. Opal grabbed my hand, wanting to give me a tour of the house. The room she shared with her sister resided on the second floor of the stone house. The air smelled of honeysuckles. Hanging over the one empty bed was Tula’s grief flag. The white silk banner had been part of her funeral ceremony. The Sitians believed that once raised, the flag released Tula’s soul into the sky. Having freed Tula’s soul from Ferde, I knew the Sitian custom just helped comfort the families.

“Why is the flag hung over her bed?” I asked.

“It’s to keep her spirit from returning to earth,” Opal answered. “All the things that she might want to come back for are under the flag. She can’t see them there.”

I looked under the banner and spotted a small shelf filled with glass animals. The figurines were lifelike and well-made but had not captured the inner fire like the ones I had seen earlier.

“Tula gifted a couple statues and sold many others, but those she kept for herself. I tried to copy her, but mine come out differently. I have only sold a few.” She shrugged.

“You made the ones in the store window. Didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Again she made a dismissive shrug. “The store owner is a kind woman. She knew I was coming today and put them in the window. My animals are dull in comparison to Tula’s.”

“Opal, they’re stunning. How did you get them to glow?”

She pressed her hands over her heart as if she couldn’t believe what she heard. “You see the light?”

“Of course. Doesn’t everyone?”

“No!” she cried. “Only I see it—and now you!” She twirled with delight.

“And Leif. He saw it also.”

“Really? How odd. No one else in my family or my friends can see the inner light. They all think I’m daft, but they humor me anyway.”

“How do you make them?”

She explained the process of glassblowing to me. More detail than I needed, but I understood the basics.

“Usually you shape animals from solid glass, but, when I try it, the animals resemble blobs. To make a tumbler or vase, you have to blow an air bubble into the glass. I can’t do that either. I turn purple trying to get a starter bubble but have never accomplished it. However once I fail to make the bubble, I shape the piece so I don’t waste the glass. That’s when I get results. Not only does my animal look real, but a spark remains inside even when the piece has cooled.”

I thought for a moment. “But eventually the middle would cool. What keeps it glowing?”

She threw her arms out in a frustrated gesture. “I don’t know. I put my heart into these.”

The answer popped into my mind. “Magic.”

“No. Master Jewelrose has tested me. I didn’t have enough power to stay at the Keep.”

I smiled. “She should test you again.” Dax’s taunt about weird powers replayed in my mind. If Opal had been born a Zaltana, the test would have been different. “You have enough power to capture fire inside your statues.”

“Why can’t anyone else see it?”

“Perhaps a person has to have some magical ability to see the fire,” I theorized. “If that’s the case, you need to sell these at the Citadel’s market where there are many magicians.”

She pursed her lips in thought. “I obviously don’t meet a lot of magicians. Can you take one of my statues along and test your theory?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything!”

“That you let me pay for it so I can keep it.”

“You don’t have—”

I put my hand up, stopping her. “You said anything.”

She laughed. “Okay, but I’ll charge you the wholesale price. I know just the piece to give you, too. It’s in the factory.”

Opal dashed down the steps and flew out the door. The cold rush of night air reminded me that we needed to get back to the inn. I thanked Opal’s parents for the meal. They told me Leif had gone with Mara to the factory.

I found Opal there. She handed me a package. Wrapped with layers of cloth to protect the glass, the fist-size parcel fit neatly in my hand.

“Open it later,” she said. “I had another one in mind for you, but this one…called. Crazy. I know.”

“I’ve heard stranger things. I’ll write you a letter when I get back to the Keep and let you know how the experiment went.” I gently placed Opal’s package in my backpack, slung the straps back over my shoulders then paid her for the statue. “Do you know where Leif is?” I asked.

She blushed. “I think he’s sweet on Mara. They’re in the back in the mixing room. She’s supposed to be measuring sand.”

I wove my way through the kilns, workbenches and barrels of supplies. The hot air baked into my skin. Light gray smoke rose from the burning coals and flowed through the chimneys to vent outside. Opal’s family used a special white coal mined from the Emerald Mountains to heat their kilns. Cleaner than the black variety, the white coals burned hot enough to reach the two thousand degrees needed to melt the sand ingredients.

In the back room, a table filled with mixing bowls lined the far wall. Leif and Mara leaned over a deep bowl, but they were looking at each other instead of the concoction. The cloth masks used to prevent them from breathing in the fine particles hung around their necks.

I paused before interrupting them. Mara’s hands were coated with sand, and granules peppered Leif’s hair. He looked younger and his face shone with delight. It was a side of Leif I hadn’t seen before, and I wondered if he had someone he cared about back at the Keep. I realized I knew nothing about certain parts of Leif’s life.

Taking a few steps backward, I moved from their sight. I called Leif’s name loud enough for them to hear me over the noise of the kilns. He now stood away from Mara when I came into view, the sand gone from his hair.

“It’s getting late. We need to get back.”

Leif nodded but didn’t move. I understood the hint and left.

Outside the factory, a strong breeze hustled the clouds overhead. Shafts of moonlight poured from the sky between the breaks. When Leif joined me, we headed back to the inn. He was quiet.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

“No.”

After several steps, he asked, “Did you learn anything about the Vermin from Jaymes?”

“The city is worried about them, but there is no information on where they might be if they’re even here at all.” I told him about Opal’s glass animals, and he seemed intrigued by the magical element.

“Did you tell Mara about Ferde’s escape?” I asked.

“No. I just told her to be extremely careful.”

We walked for a while in silence. The air bit through my shirt and I wished I had my cloak. Booruby resided on the edge of the temperate zone with warm afternoons followed by cold nights.

“I like her,” Leif said, breaking the quiet. “I haven’t liked anyone before. Too busy and too worried about you to care for another. I couldn’t keep you safe. I didn’t lift a finger to help you. Finding you became more important than living my own life.”

“Leif, you were eight years old and would have been killed if you had tried to stop Mogkan from kidnapping me. You did the right thing.”

“Getting killed would have been easier. No guilt. No worries. No fear. Caring for someone is terrible and wonderful. I don’t know if I have the strength to do it for another. How do you deal with it?”

“I focus on the wonderful parts and suffer through the terrible parts, knowing it will end eventually.”

“Did you like Valek as soon as you saw him?”

“No. In the beginning our relationship was purely business.” The first time I had met Valek he had offered me the choice of going to the noose or becoming the next food taster. My family knew I had been the Commander’s food taster, but not why. Someday I would tell them about Reyad’s torture.

“When did your feelings change?”

That was a harder question. “I guess the first time he saved my life.” I told Leif about the Ixian fire festival and how Irys had hired four goons to kill me because my uncontrolled magic could flame out and ruin the power source.

“So the first time you met Master Jewelrose, she tried to kill you? And you told me before Valek had wanted to kill you twice. Gee, Yelena, you’re not a people person, are you?”

“There were other circumstances,” I said in my defense.

“It all sounds too complicated. I shouldn’t get involved with Mara.”

“That would be taking the easy road. Safe yet dull. Why do you like her?”

“She smells like the jungle on a perfect day. It’s a light whiff of the Ylang-Ylang flower combined with the sweet aroma of living green and a touch of the nutty earthy essence. It’s a scent you can wrap around yourself and feel at peace. Only those dry and sunny days will produce that smell, and they are as rare as a solid-white valmur.” Leif took a deep breath. “She has a soothing, contented soul.”

“Sounds like she might be worth the effort. There might be plenty of rainy days, but those perfect ones will make all the memories of rain disappear.”

“Is this from experience?”

“Yes.”

We reached the Three Ghosts Inn and entered the building. Moon Man and Tauno sat at one of the tables in the common area. Customers filled the room.

Tauno held a bloody cloth to his temple and his split lower lip bled.

“What happened?” I asked when we joined our friends. “Where’s Marrok?”

Tauno’s face was glum. He glanced at Moon Man as if seeking the Story Weaver’s permission.

“We found the Vermin,” Tauno said. He winced. “Or I should say they found us. A group of five soldiers with the Soulstealer and Cahil. They surrounded us, dragged us into a building and threatened to kill us. Cahil drew Marrok away and they had a private discussion. They laughed and left together, seeming the best of friends.” Tauno put a hand to his ribs and cringed with pain. “The others descended on me and I have no memory except waking in the empty building.”

“When did this happen?” I asked.

“This morning.”

“I am glad he is alive, but I wonder why they did not kill him,” Moon Man said.

Contemplating the situation, I said, “Taking a captive through crowded streets would be difficult. If they wait until nightfall to perform Kirakawa on him they risk being discovered.”

“So why not just kill him?” Moon Man asked.

“Because they want us to know they have Marrok,” Leif said.

“As a hostage?” Moon Man asked.

“No. Marrok left with Cahil. They’re flaunting the fact that Marrok is now with them,” I said. “And they know everything he knows. Including our present location.”

13

“DO YOU THINK THEY WILL attack us here?” Leif asked.

I glanced at the fire warming the inn’s common room. Would the Fire Warper risk being seen by the other guests?

“They could watch the building and follow us, waiting until we get to a secluded spot to attack,” Moon Man said.

“That’s a happy thought,” Leif muttered.

I reached out to Kiki. She dozed in the stable but roused at my light mental contact. If Vermin skulked around the inn, she and the other horses would be upset.

Smell? I asked.

Night. Straw. Sweet hay, she said.

All good for now.

Kiki help? Watch. Listen. Smell for you.

What if you get tired?

Rusalka. Garnet. Take turns.

Good idea. I’ll come and open the doors.

Lavender Lady stay. Kiki do.

I smiled, remembering how she had unlatched her stall door in the Keep’s stable when Goel had attacked me. One of Cahil’s men who held a grudge, Goel hadn’t seen her. Probably hadn’t known what hit him until he regained consciousness among the broken boards of the pasture’s fence.

“…Yelena? Hello?” Leif poked my arm.

“I’m here.”

“What are we going to do?” Leif asked me.

“It’s too late to go anywhere else. Kiki and the horses will watch the outside of the building and alert me if anyone approaches.”

“Ooh, guard horses. How quaint.” Leif pointed to the hearth. “What if Mr. Fire Warper decides to jump out of the fire? I don’t think Mrs. Floranne will be serving him a bowl of her stew.”

“Can we douse the fire?” I asked.

“No,” Leif said. “The inn will get too cold and Mrs. Floranne won’t have hot coals for breakfast.”

“Leif, do you always think with your stomach?” I asked.

“Is there any other way?”

I sighed. “We’ll post a watch inside. Moon Man, how many entrances to this building?”

“Two. The main one leading to the street, and one in the back through the kitchen.”

“How about upstairs? Is there another staircase in the kitchen?”

“Yes, but we can secure the door into our hallway.”

“Good. We’ll each take a two-hour watch. I need to rest after I heal Tauno’s injuries so I won’t take the first shift. Moon Man can start, followed by Leif, me and Tauno.”

We left Moon Man in the common room. I helped Tauno to his room. Stiff and sore, he moved with care. When he was comfortable on the bed, I pulled a string of power and examined the damage. Aside from two broken ribs, his other wounds were minor. Staring at his injuries until they transferred to me, I hunched over with the pain and then pushed it away.

Tauno squeezed my hand in thanks before falling asleep. I trudged to my bed, not as exhausted as I had been in the past. Perhaps my healing skills improved with practice. Or had I grown used to relying on my magic?

“Yelena, wake up.” Leif shook my shoulder.

I peered at him through heavy eyes. He placed the lantern on the table.

“You’re the one who set the schedule. Come on.” He pulled the blanket off me. “Most commanders don’t take a turn guarding the troops. They get a good night’s sleep so they can make the right decisions in the morning.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes. “I’m not a commander and we’re not a troop.”

“I disagree. You’ve been leading the way. You’re the one who knows what you’re doing.”

“I—”

Leif put his fingers on my lips. “Don’t say it. I like—no—need to believe that you know what you’re doing. Makes it so much easier to follow your instructions, especially when I’m acting as bait for a fifty-foot-long snake.”

“Fine. I have things well in hand. I don’t need much sleep because I have all the steps we need to take already planned out. Happy now?”

“Yes.” Leif stretched out on his bed.

I picked up the lantern. “Sweet dreams.”

“They will be now.”

The hallway of the inn was dark and quiet. I checked the door leading to the kitchen stairs. It remained locked tight. Good. Descending into the common area, I thought about Leif’s comments. I might be the one making the decisions, but I didn’t believe I had enough knowledge to be a commander. Gut instinct still propelled my actions.

Valek had taught me about strategy and clandestine operations, and my Ixian friends, Ari and Janco, had taught me to fight. Late-night sessions with Janco were the reason I could pick locks. However, my magical training with Irys had been interrupted by Ferde’s quest for power.

There could be a magical way to find Ferde and counter a Fire Warper, but since I hadn’t read all those books about magic and history, and I hadn’t explored my powers to find their limits, he was the test I hadn’t studied for, the quiz I was bound to fail. Out of my depth.

The empty common room echoed with my footsteps. I made a circuit of the area to check for intruders before I set the lantern down and went outside to visit the horses. The cold air stabbed through my cloak.

Kiki stood in the alley next to the inn. Her dark coat blended with the shadows, but the white blaze down her face reflected the moonlight.

Smells? I asked, reaching up to scratch behind her ears.

Fresh. No bad.

Any trouble?

She snorted with amusement. Two men. Woman.

She replayed the memory of two men robbing a woman. They had been so preoccupied with searching her packages they failed to notice Kiki’s quiet approach. Quiet, because Kiki, like all the Sanseed horses, refused to wear metal horseshoes.

Kiki had spun and used her back legs with expert precision. The men landed half a block away, and the woman, after staring wide-eyed at Kiki, took off in the opposite direction. I wondered why the lady had been out so late.

She’ll probably spread rumors about being rescued by a ghost horse, I said to Kiki. Maybe they’ll change the inn’s name to Four Ghosts.

I like ghosts. Quiet.

You see ghosts?

Yes.

Where?

Here. There. Places.

Here? I looked around. The empty street seemed deserted. I don’t see any.

You will. She nuzzled my cloak, sniffing the pockets. I like peppermints, too.

I gave her the mints. Care to elaborate on the ghost issue?

No.

She retreated down the alley and I returned to the inn. The lantern’s flame flickered as I made another sweep of the kitchen and rooms upstairs before settling down near the hearth. Embers glowed within the remains of the fire. Suppressing my apprehension, I added a few logs to coax the coals into a small fire to heat water for tea. Such a diminutive blaze shouldn’t be big enough for the Fire Warper.

Perhaps the size of the fire equaled the size of the Fire Warper. The image of a foot-tall Fire Warper leaping from the hearth caused me to laugh, but knowing he needed only one flame to start a fire ruined my good humor.

Searching my pack for tea leaves, I found Opal’s package. Curious to see which glass animal had called to her, I unwrapped the thick cloth. A charcoal-gray bat with green eyes came to life in my hands. I almost dropped the piece in surprise, but even with its wings outstretched the palm-size creature didn’t take flight. Opal’s magic—not life—glowed from the core of the bat. Closer examination revealed flecks of silver along the bat’s body and wings.

An invigorating tingle swept up my arm. I mulled over the benefits of being a creature of the night. Could I locate Marrok or Cahil now while the city slept? Drawing power, I projected my mind and encountered a confusing array of dream images. Once again too many people for me to sort through. I pulled back.

The water bubbled. With reluctance, I returned the statue to my pack and found the tea. Over my steaming cup, I watched the miniature fire. I considered making an attempt to contact Bain Bloodgood. The Second Magician might have some advice on how I could find one soul among so many.

The Citadel was three days away by horseback. Too far for me to project in normal circumstances. Desperation increased my distance, but then I had no control of direction. Also, Bain would be asleep, his mental defenses impenetrable. I decided to wait until the morning to try.

The desire to sleep dragged at my body. I made several rounds of the room just to stay awake. When seated, my attention lingered on the fire’s dancing flames. They pulsed in a rhythm that matched my heartbeat. The flames’ movements appeared choreographed, as if they tried to communicate something to me. Something important.

I knelt near the fire. Fingers of orange and yellow beckoned. Come, they invited. Join with us. Embrace the fire.

I inched closer. Waves of heat caressed my face.

Come. We need to tell you…

What? I leaned in. Flames crackled, sap hissed and boiled and the harsh scent of burning hair billowed.

“Yelena!”

Moon Man’s voice drenched me with cold reason. I scurried away from the hearth, stopping when I reached the far side of the room. Chills raced over my skin and I shivered.

“Thanks,” I said to him.

“I thought something was not right.” Moon Man descended the rest of the way down the stairs. “I woke feeling as if the threads of my blanket had ignited.”

“It’s a good thing you did.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure.” I wrapped my cloak tighter. “I thought I saw souls in the fire.”

“Trapped?”

I barked out a laugh. If I had said that to anyone else, they would have believed I was a raving lunatic. Moon Man wanted details. Details I couldn’t provide.

“I think they wanted me to join them.”

He frowned and stared at the hearth. “You should not be left alone with a fire. I will finish Tauno’s shift.”

“Finish?” I glanced out the window. The curtain of darkness had thinned. I had lost track of the time, and failed to wake Tauno for his turn. Not a good sign.

“Go get some sleep. We will need to make plans when you wake.”

The deafening peal of Mrs. Floranne’s bell jarred me from sleep. Leif sat on the edge of his bed with his head between his hands, blocking out the noise. With silence came relief and he dropped his arms.

“She’ll be ringing that again if we don’t get down to breakfast soon,” Leif said.

All the motivation I needed. I kicked off my blanket and followed Leif from the room. We joined Moon Man and Tauno in the common area. The crowded inn buzzed with conversation. Mrs. Floranne poured tea while her staff served breakfast. The smell of sweet syrup wafted through the air.

The good night’s sleep reflected in Tauno’s face. The swelling was gone and the bruises faded from bright red to a light purple smudge. He moved without wincing in pain.

We ate our breakfast of honey, eggs and bread and discussed our next move.

“We should search the city,” Leif said. “Quarter by quarter until we either find them or determine they’re not here.”

“It would take a long time.” Moon Man spooned a glob of eggs onto a slice of bread.

“They are gone,” Tauno said.

I stopped eating. “How do you know?”

“They mentioned leaving Booruby.”

“Why didn’t you tell us last night?” I stabbed my eggs with my fork.

“I was distracted by the pain and did not remember the comment until now.”

“Would it have made a difference?” Leif asked.

I thought it over. Tauno had been in bad shape. But with no fatal injuries, I could have left him here and…what? Scanned the surrounding forest with my magic? I didn’t know which direction they had gone and they had almost a full day of travel.

“Probably not,” I sighed. “Tauno, do you remember anything else? Did they say where they were going?”

“The need to hurry was all I sensed. Perhaps that is why I was not killed. They did not have enough time.”

“The best strategy would have been to keep us in the dark about Marrok, wondering if he is dead or alive and what he told them.” I sipped my tea. “However, Cahil likes to feel superior and probably believes letting us know Marrok has betrayed us would make us doubt our instincts and slow us down.”

Cahil had tried that tactic with me before. When he had thought I was a spy from Ixia, he had ambushed me in the forest. Then, he wanted me to believe Leif set me up to demoralize me. It hadn’t worked. And it wouldn’t work now.

If anything, I was more determined to find them. Even though we had lost their trail. My appetite gone, I pushed my plate away.

“What’s next?” Leif asked.

The door to the common room banged open. Marrok stood in the threshold with a bloody sword in his hand.

The four of us jumped to our feet. Breakfast forgotten, we pulled our weapons as the conversation in the inn’s common room dwindled into a deadly silence.

“Come on.” Marrok gestured from the doorway with his sword. “Let’s go before they catch up.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Cahil and his…his…friends.” Marrok spit the words out. “I escaped.” Horror bleached his face, and blood dripped from a cut on his throat. “I’ve lost them, but they know we’re here.”

“How many?” I demanded.

Marrok straightened. “Seven.”

“Armed?”

“Swords, scimitars and Curare.”

“How soon?”

Marrok glanced over his shoulder and froze. He dropped his sword. It clattered on the stone floor. A big hand shoved him, pushing him to the ground.

Behind Marrok, Cahil, Ferde and five Vermin streamed into the common room.

14

WITH THEIR WEAPONS pointed toward us the Vermin and Cahil fanned out in front of the door. Two Vermin had scimitars, two had swords and one held a blowpipe to his lips.

“Everyone just stay calm,” Cahil ordered. His long broadsword made an impressive threat. The people in the common room stayed in their seats. Mostly merchants and salesmen, there wasn’t a soldier among them.

Marrok remained on the floor. A Vermin stood over him with the tip of his scimitar pointed at Marrok’s throat.

I glanced at Tauno. “You said they were gone.”

His face had paled and, although he held his weapon, he hadn’t nocked an arrow. Moon Man eyed the Vermin as if judging the distance between their necks and his scimitar. Leif’s machete glinted in the sunlight from the open doorway.

“Change of plans,” Cahil said.

Cahil had let his blond hair grow past his shoulders and it was unbound. Besides that, he remained the same. Same gray traveling clothes, same black riding boots, same washed-out blue eyes and same hate-filled expression on his bearded face.

“My friend wanted to exchange Marrok for Yelena.” Cahil inclined his head to Ferde.

I noted his use of the word friend. How could he call that creature his friend?

The Soulstealer’s plain homespun tunic and pants hid most of the red tattoos covering his body. With a scimitar in one hand and a blowpipe in another, he looked at me with cold calculation. Despite his lean and powerful build, I sensed his magic remained weak. Yet a bite of fear nipped my stomach.

“I hope you have a few more Warpers with you,” I said to Cahil. “The Soulstealer is no condition to fight three magicians.”

“I may have failed in my power quest,” Ferde said. “However, I now serve another who has learned blood magic.”

The sound of roaring flames reached me before the heat. A quick look over my shoulder confirmed the blaze in the hearth had grown. Terror boiled in my throat, prompting me to act before the Fire Warper appeared.

Pulling power, I sent a thread to Moon Man. Take out the man with the blowpipe. I’ll take Ferde. He agreed. Leif, I said, attack the man over Marrok then keep Cahil busy.

When? Leif asked.

“Now.” I shouted and projected my awareness into Ferde’s mind, bypassing his mental defenses and seizing control of his body. It was a self-defense move I had learned when Goel had captured me. Chained and left with no recourse except using my magic, I had sent my soul into Goel’s body.

Once Ferde realized I had invaded, he concentrated all his energy on ejecting me. I ignored his efforts. He threatened to kill me the same way he had murdered his other victims.

Memories stabbed; sounds of their screams pounded; the smell of rancid blood pierced and visions of mutilations assaulted. His black desires of power and dominance through torture and rape revolted me.

To stop him, I harvested his soul and wrung it, exposing his deep fears and the events that had caused his addiction to power. The favorite uncle who had tied him down and sodomized him. The older sister who had tormented him. The father who had belittled him. The mother he had trusted and confided in. The mother who had sent him back to live with his uncle as punishment for lying.

A Story Weaver may have helped Ferde untie the knotted strands of his life, but I wrenched them apart, broke the threads. He became the helpless victim again. I examined his memory for every bit of detail, looking for information about the Daviian Vermin. When I finished, I peered through his eyes.

My body lay on the ground, comatose. Moon Man fought a Vermin. They maneuvered around a headless body. Cahil hacked at Leif, whose machete was no match against Cahil’s longer sword. Leif would soon be forced to surrender. Tauno stood in the same spot as if rooted to the floor. Marrok had regained his feet and sparred with one of the Vermin near another body. The people in the inn had organized a bucket brigade to dump water on the fire.

Even though my time with Ferde felt like a lifetime, only seconds had passed. I raised the blowpipe in the Soulstealer’s hand and aimed. First Cahil. Reloading, I shot each Vermin with a Curare-laced dart, ending the fight.

Water wasn’t going to stop the Fire Warper, but with his cohorts neutralized, he conceded the fight. “Next time, my little bat.” The fire died with a hiss and puff of oily smoke.

I returned to my body. My limbs felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds each. Leif helped me to stand on weak legs.

Mrs. Floranne came over. She clutched her apron between her hands and worried at the fabric. “What should we be doing?”

“Send someone to fetch the city guards. We’ll need help transporting the prisoners to the Citadel,” I said.

She sent the stable lad.

“Have they all been hit with Curare?” Leif pointed to the prone figures.

I looked at Ferde. He had collapsed in a heap on the floor. “All but one. I’ve examined his soul, and he won’t be giving us any more trouble.”

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

“Do you think that was wise?” Moon Man asked. His scimitar dripped with blood and gore, and lacerations crisscrossed his chest. “You could have achieved the same result without damaging his mind.”

“I—”

Leif jumped to my defense. “Hold on, Mr. Let’s-exterminate-all-the-Vermin Man. Given the chance you would have decapitated him. Besides, he deserved it. And it doesn’t matter anyway; Roze would have done the same thing to him once he arrived at the Citadel. Yelena just saved time.”

Small darts of fear pricked my heart. Leif’s words repeated in my mind. Roze would have done the same. He was right. Numbness spread throughout my body. I hadn’t even stopped to consider the implications before acting.

Don’t get in my way; I’m the all-powerful Soulfinder. Disgust coursed through me. History books hadn’t been kind to Soulfinders. The vision of Flame Me being burned at the stake rose in my mind. Perhaps the Councilors and Roze were right to fear me. After what I had just done to Ferde, I feared I might turn into a power-hungry despot.

“We need to leave as soon as possible,” Moon Man said.

We had assembled in the inn’s common room again. The city guards had taken Cahil and the others into custody yesterday. We had spent the day explaining to the city officials about Cahil’s group; an afternoon’s worth of discussion to convince them to send the prisoners to the Council. Leif and Marrok would accompany the city guards to the Citadel this morning. I intended to go with Moon Man and Tauno to the Sandseed homeland in the Avibian Plains.

“You’re worried about your clan,” I said.

“Yes. Also I think we need to learn more about the Kirakawa, the Fire Warper and your abilities before we have another run-in with the Vermin.”

“But your clan has forgotten the details. How are you going to learn more?” Leif asked.

“We can consult Gede. He is another Story Weaver, but he is also a descendant of Guyan and may have more information.” Moon Man stole my ginger muffin and ate it.

Although I was curious to know more about how Guyan had reunited the Sandseeds after their civil war with the Efe Warriors, Moon Man’s comments reminded me I needed to try to contact Irys and let her know what had happened.

We finished breakfast and made arrangements to leave. Moon Man and Tauno would get the horses ready while Leif and I tried to communicate with Irys.

We returned to our room. I lay on my bed.

“Do you think you can reach her from this distance?” Leif asked.

“I hope to, but I may need a boost of energy.”

Leif sat on the edge of my bed. Closing my eyes, I drew power to me and projected my awareness toward the Magician’s Keep in the Citadel. I bypassed the chaotic jumble of minds in the city and reached for the wide-open fields marking the eastern border of the Greenblade Clan’s lands. The few livestock I encountered hunched against the damp wind.

Pushing past the barren farmland, I aimed for the white marble walls of the Citadel. But my mind stretched thin as if it had turned to taffy. Leif’s warm hand encompassed mine and a surge of strength pushed my awareness further, but I couldn’t reach those walls. The effort left me drained.

Leif gave my hand a squeeze before he stood. He searched through his pack and before I could ask, he handed me a yellow leaf rolled like a scroll.

“Eat it,” he said. “It’ll give you energy.”

I sniffed. The leaf smelled like spearmint and rosemary. An odd combination. As I crunched the leaf, the bitter mint taste dominated and it shredded like paper in my mouth. “Yuck. What is it?”

“A baka leaf. One of Father’s discoveries.”

After a while, I felt better. We packed our bags and joined Moon Man and Tauno in the stables. The four of us mounted. Leif and Marrok rode together on Rusalka and headed toward the city’s garrison. Marrok would borrow one of the guard’s horses for the trip to the Citadel.

The rest of us went east through Booruby’s crowded streets. Tauno shared Kiki’s saddle with me, and Moon Man rode Garnet.

When we reached the Avibian Plains, the horses broke into their gust-of-wind gait. We traveled until the sun set then halted to rest. Our stopping point was a bleak section of the plains. A few stalks of grass clung to the sand, and no trees or firewood were in sight. Tauno reconnoitered the area as soon as he dismounted.

Moon Man and I tended the horses. Once they were fed, watered and rubbed down, Moon Man removed the oil nuts Leif had given to him. One of my father’s finds, the oil nuts would burn long enough to heat water for stew. The night air smelled damp, hinting at rain.

After arranging the fist-size lumps into a circle, he lit the nuts on fire by striking two stones together to make a spark. I guessed Story Weaver powers didn’t include lighting fires. Interesting.

Tauno returned with a couple rabbits he had shot with his bow and arrow. He skinned the animals and added the meat to the stew.

After dinner I asked Moon Man about Guyan. “What happened between the Efe rulers?”

“Just over two thousand years ago, the Efe Tribe was a peaceful nomadic people, following the cattle and the weather.” Moon Man reclined against Garnet’s saddle, warming to his tale. “Before becoming an official member of the tribe, the young people would make a year-long pilgrimage and bring back a new tale for the tribe. It is said that Hersh was gone many years, and, when he returned, he brought back knowledge of blood magic.

“At first he taught a few Efe magicians, called Warriors, how to boost their powers. Little rites requiring a drop of their own blood. The extra power would dissipate when the task was completed. Then Hersh showed them how to mix their blood with ink and inject it into their skin. Now the power did not dissipate and they became stronger Warriors. Soon they discovered using another’s blood was even more potent. And heart’s blood, taken from the chambers of the heart was incredibly empowering.”

Moon Man shifted his weight and stared into the black sky. “The problem with using blood magic is it becomes addictive. Even though the Efe Warriors were powerful, they wanted still more. They did not kill their own clan members, but sought victims from neighboring clans. No longer content to follow the cattle and forage for food, they stole what they needed from others.

“This abuse continued for a long time. And would have continued if an Efe named Guyan had not stopped the Warriors. He kept his magic pure. Sickened by the horrors he witnessed, Guyan organized a resistance. The details of the battle are lost to time, but the amount of magic pulled from the power blanket was enough to knock over the Daviian Mountains and shred the blanket of power. Guyan organized what was left of the clan, and established the role of Story Weavers, who helped mend the people and the power.” Moon Man yawned.

I compared his story to what I had learned about Sitian history. “Can you really mend the power source? I read a history where a magician had bunched the power around himself, and it took two hundred years for it to smooth out.”

“Guyan was the first Weaver,” Tauno said. He hadn’t moved a muscle during Moon Man’s story. “Guyan’s incredible powers could mend the power source, a skill not seen in another since.”

Moon Man agreed. “The blanket is not perfect. There are holes, tears and thin patches. There might come a point in time where it will be worn away and magic will be a story of the past.”

A loud pop sounded from the campfire. I jumped. The last of Leif’s oil nuts sputtered and died, leaving the three of us in darkness. Tauno offered to take the first watch as Moon Man and I readied for bed.

I lay awake shivering in my cloak, thinking about the power source. Finding out about those holes called Voids had been a nasty surprise. Alea Daviian had dragged me into an area without power to torture and kill me. Being unable to access my magic, I had felt quite helpless. The fact I had been tied to a cart had reinforced my complete lack of control. Alea erred by not searching me for weapons, and I had used my switchblade to escape.

Alea had also wanted to collect my blood and I wondered if she’d planned to perform the Kirakawa ritual on me. I supposed I wouldn’t ever know. I couldn’t ask a dead woman. Or could I? An image of invisible spirits hovering over me filled my mind and I felt as if a layer of ice coated my skin.

The next morning we ate a cold breakfast of jerked beef and cheese. Moon Man estimated we would reach the Sandseeds’ main camp by late afternoon.

“I tried to reach the elders,” Moon Man said. “But there is a strong barrier of protective magic tenting the encampment. Either my people managed to fight off the Vermin and this new shield is a safeguard against another attack, or the Vermin have taken control and are defending themselves.”

“Let’s hope for the first one,” I said.

We mounted and rode for most of the day, stopping only once to rest the horses. Before we reached the point where we would be visible to the Sandseeds’ camp, we halted. Tauno would scout the camp and report back.

Taking off his bow and arrows, Tauno doused himself and his clothes with water then rolled in the sandy soil. Granules clung to his skin. He blended in so well with the surroundings, he soon vanished from our sight.

I paced and fretted while Moon Man appeared serene.

“Worrying can not change anything,” he said to my unspoken question. “I would rather conserve energy for when we can do something.”

“You’re right, of course, but on occasion logic does not win against emotions.”

He shrugged. I resisted thinking worrisome thoughts and focused instead on what I could do.

Smells? I asked Kiki.

Sweet. Home, she replied. Itchy.

Clumps of mud clung to her copper coat. I rummaged in my pack until I found the currycomb. I was still combing Kiki when Tauno returned.

“The camp is secure. If we leave now we can get there before dark,” Tauno reported.

As we prepared to go, he told us what he had seen. “Everything looked normal. Yanna washed clothes and Jeyon skinned a hare. I crept closer and saw the elders arguing over the fire. The children at their lessons. The youths practicing with their wooden swords. Many heads drying in the sun.”

“Heads?” I asked.

“Our enemies,” Moon Man replied in a matter-of-fact tone as if decorating with decapitated heads was a normal occurrence.

“It is a good sign,” Tauno said. “It means we have won the battle.”

Yet Tauno didn’t look happy. “Did you talk to anyone?” I asked.

“Yes. Jeyon signaled to me everything was fine. I did not want to waste the daylight finding out the details.” He peered at the sky. “A hot meal by a warm fire will be most welcome.”

I agreed. Tauno joined me on Kiki’s back, and Moon Man mounted Garnet. In high spirits we joked and raced to the Sandseeds’ camp.

The gray twilight waned as the white tents of the camp became visible. Many Sandseeds had gathered near the fire. A few stirred the contents of large cooking pots, and, by the heady aroma, I guessed venison stew bubbled inside. Yum. Others waved to us as we approached. We slowed the horses.

The air shimmered with the rising heat. I scanned the area with my magic, but felt only the strong protection Moon Man had mentioned. The magic didn’t feel like an illusion, but my experience was limited.

When we crossed the magical barrier, I braced myself. Even Tauno gripped my waist tighter. But the scene didn’t change. The Sandseeds stayed the same. Three men and two women came over to us as we stopped the horses while the rest resumed their evening’s work.

The women’s faces appeared to be strained with either worry or grief. There must have been Sandseed casualties. The Sandseed men grabbed the horses’ bridles. An odd thing to do, considering they had trained the horses to keep still. Kiki reared. I held her mane as she jerked away from the Sandseeds’ grasp.

Bad smell, she said.

Firelight flashed on steel. I turned in time to see a mass of well-armed Daviian Vermin erupting from the tents.

15

TAUNO’S BOWSTRING TWANGED and I yelled, “Go! Go! Go!” Kiki was free, but two Sandseeds held tight to Garnet’s bridle. A quick glance to the side revealed ten feet separated us from the fastest Vermin.

I pulled my staff from my pack as Kiki turned. She used her rear legs to keep the Vermin occupied while I brought my bow down on the temple of a Sandseed holding Garnet. A pang of regret touched my heart as the man crumpled to the ground. He had probably been forced to ambush us. But I didn’t let the feelings stop me from attacking the second man clutching Garnet.

“Go! Go! Go!” I yelled again.

Even with Moon Man’s scimitar, Tauno’s arrows and my bow, the Vermin outnumbered us. It was only a matter of time before they would overrun us. In a flurry of hooves and steel and shouts, the horses headed away from the Sandseed camp, breaking into their gust-of-wind gait.

We had ridden through most of the night to get as far away from the Vermin as possible. The horses slowed. Heads down, they panted. Their coats gleamed with sweat. Only a couple dark hours remained. Dismounting, we removed their saddles. While I walked the horses to cool them down, Moon Man and Tauno searched for wood and game.

No one said a word. The shock of the attack had yet to wear off and the vivid memory of it played over and over in my mind. The ramifications alone were too awful to consider right now.

We ate another rabbit stew in silence. I thought about our next move.

“The elders…” Moon Man’s voice seemed loud in the thick night air.

“Are still alive,” Tauno said. “For now.”

“Would they kill them?” A shudder gripped my body at the thought of all those drying skulls.

“The trap was sprung. They have no need for them,” Moon Man replied then seemed to reconsider his words. “They might keep them as slaves. The Vermin are lazy when it comes to domestic tasks.”

“And they’re just busy beavers when it comes to ritual killings and gaining power,” I said. “Lucky us.” The scene once again flashed in my mind. “Do you think some of your people escaped?”

“Perhaps. They would have left the plains, though.” Moon Man considered. “The Sandseeds no longer control the protective magic over the Avibian Plains. To stay within its borders would be too dangerous for them. Right now, the Vermin are using the protection to keep their presence a secret, but now that we have fled, I believe they will use it to find us. Perhaps to attack us with magic.”

“Then we shouldn’t linger long. Is there any way to know if they find us?”

“We can create a barrier to alert us to an attack and maybe deflect an initial foray.”

“We should saddle the horses in case we need to make a quick exit.” I stood.

“That would be prudent.” Moon Man helped me with the horses.

Kiki snorted in annoyance when I tightened her straps.

Tired, she said. Don’t need. Smell good.

For now. If the smells turn bad, we can leave faster. I fed her some peppermints and scratched behind her large ears. She sighed and her eyes drifted shut.

After the horses were ready, the three of us sat in a circle around the fire.

“Maybe we should douse the flames.” Worried that the Fire Warper would sense me through the blaze, I hadn’t used my magic near a fire.

Moon Man dumped water onto it. Puffs of gray smoke rose into the air.

“Yelena, I want you to pull threads of magic and I will do the rest,” Moon Man instructed.

Concentrating, I gathered strands of power. Moon Man plucked the strands from me and weaved them into a net around us. Tauno’s pinched and sullen expression reflected his discomfort. As the only one without magic, he didn’t have the ability to see the protection building around us.

When Moon Man finished, I disconnected from the power source, feeling drained of energy. The net pulsed with magic even though we no longer fueled it. I wondered why it still worked. In all my past efforts, the power dissipated as soon as I stopped using magic. Except for my mental connections with Kiki and Irys, every time I wanted to heal or project I had to consciously draw from the power source. Yet the Sandseeds had their protection, and there were other lingering spells.

An image of the knife in Valek’s suite came to mind. When Valek had assassinated the King of Ixia, the King cursed him, vowing his blood would stain Valek’s hands forever. Since magic doesn’t work on Valek, the curse transferred to the knife instead. The King’s blood still clung to the blade and remained as wet and bright as the day the King had been killed.

I asked Moon Man how the protective net stayed active.

“Mostly we channel the magic through us. But there are times when you can loop the power back to the source. It can be very difficult to do, and, by having you draw the power, I could save my energy for knitting it together and redirecting it back to the source. Large-scale protection like the one covering the Avibian Plains and the Sandseeds…”

A hitch of emotion stopped his words. He closed his eyes and swallowed his grief before he continued. “Huge magical loops require an immense effort by many magicians, but can be effective for a long time. The protection we just created will last for a few hours before dissipating. Enough time to give the horses a chance to rest.”

“And then what?” I asked, but he looked at me. Leif’s comments about my role as commander flittered through my mind. I answered my own question. “We leave the plains. Head toward the Citadel and let the Council know what’s been going on with the Vermin.”

“Hopefully they will already know. The Sandseed survivors would have gone to the Citadel.” Moon Man scowled. “If there were any.”

Waiting for the horses to regain some of their strength proved to be difficult. Our protective net flashed whenever the Vermin’s magic scanned the area. So far the net hid us from the Vermin, but each encounter weakened the fibers.

The desire to flee and the need to sleep battled within me. I wanted to stay awake in case the Vermin attacked, but I dozed off and on until the sky brightened with the rising sun.

The few hours before dawn had been enough time for the horses. We mounted and headed northwest, riding hard. During our rest breaks, Moon Man searched for any sign the Vermin’s magic had found us. I projected my awareness to learn if they physically pursued us. In our haste, we left a physical trail even my untrained eyes could follow.

A couple hours short of the Avibian border, we stopped for a longer rest. Moon Man proclaimed the Vermin had lost us, and I couldn’t sense anyone nearby.

Since we had been traveling together for fifteen days, we automatically attended our chosen tasks, even with the Daviian threat hanging over our heads.

By the time I had finished rubbing down the horses and seeing to their needs, I smelled rabbit stew cooking on the fire.

Tauno sat next to the pot. His shoulders hunched as if a great weight pressed down on him, and his attention remained fixed on the ground. He hadn’t uttered more than a few words since yesterday. Perhaps he felt guilty and responsible for leading us into an ambush. I debated discussing it with him, but considered he might be more comfortable talking to Moon Man. I wondered if Moon Man was his Story Weaver. Every Sandseed had a Story Weaver to guide and advise them throughout their lives.

I glanced around, realizing Moon Man hadn’t returned from collecting firewood even though a pile of branches rested near the cook fire.

“Tauno, where’s Moon Man?” I asked.

Tauno didn’t even lift his head when he said, “He was called to the shadow world.”

“Called? Does that mean another Story Weaver survived the Vermin attack?”

“You will have to ask him.”

“When will he be back?”

Tauno ignored the rest of my questions. Frustrated, I circled the area, searching for Moon Man, and found his clothes in a heap on the ground. I moved to return to the fire and bumped into him.

I jerked back in surprise. Moon Man seized my upper arms to keep me from falling.

“Where have you been?” I asked.

He peered at me with an alarming intensity. Blue fire flecked his brown eyes. I tried to move, but he wouldn’t let go.

“They are dead,” he said with a flat voice. “Story Weavers and Sandseeds gone. Their souls haunt the shadow world.”

His grip on my arms tightened. “You’re hurt—”

“You can help them.”

“But I don’t—”

“Selfish girl. You would rather lose your abilities than use them. And that is what will happen. You will become a slave to another.”

His words slapped me in the face. “But I’ve been using them all along.”

“Anyone can heal. You, though, hide from your real power and others suffer for it.”

Stung and hurt, I tried to break loose, but his hold wouldn’t release. In order not to injure him, I projected into Moon Man’s mind. Thick ropes of gray power surrounded him. The shadow world still held his mind. My efforts to cut the ties failed.

“The shadow world calls.”

Moon Man began to fade. My body became translucent. He planned to take me with him to a place where I feared I couldn’t access my magic. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled my switchblade and triggered the blade. I slashed him across his stomach. Moon Man shuddered and let go. He collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball on his side.

I looked at Moon Man’s still form. The gray power had vanished, but I wasn’t sure of his mental state. Perhaps the shock and grief had been too much for him. Difficult to believe. He had been a calm and steady presence all along.

I knelt next to him. The blood from his wound soaked his shirt. Drawing power, I focused on his stomach. The cut pulsed with a red light and a line of pain formed on my own stomach. I huddled on the ground, concentrating on the injury. My magic repaired the damage.

When I finished, Moon Man grasped my hand. I tried to pull free, but he squeezed. My body jerked as the image of headless bodies slammed into my mind. They crowded close, enveloping me with the reek of dead flesh as they demanded revenge. Another jerk and the scene of a massacre flooded my senses. The burning stench of body fluids and death stung my nose as blood soaked into the sand. Mutilated bodies were strewn in a haphazard, irreverent manner and left for the vultures to find.

Moon Man sat, and I tried to break his hold. His gaze met mine.

“Is that what you saw in the shadow world?” I asked.

“Yes.” Horror filled his eyes as the gruesome images replayed in his mind.

“Give the memories to me.” I felt his reluctance. “I will not forget them.”

“Will you help them?”

“Can’t you?”

“I can only help the living.”

“Are you going to tell me how or spout some cryptic bullshit?”

“You do not want to learn. You have refused to see what is all around you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Pain creased his face and the light in his eyes dulled. He would be unable to function with the dreadful knowledge of how his people suffered.

“Give them to me. I’ll try to help them, but not right now.” I mentally added soothing-the-dead-Sandseeds to the end of my long list of things to do. After I dealt with the Fire Warper, which should be a breeze. While I was lying to myself, I included flying and turning stones into gold to my list. Might as well think big.

Moon Man released the emotional turmoil of his visions. He wouldn’t forget the images, but they would no longer strangle him. I gathered his grief and guilt and anguish to my soul. So much carnage and blood. All to boost the Vermin’s power. So many dead. Too many. How to soothe those victims? Stopping the Vermin from increasing their strength might work. What if they tried again? Perhaps destroying the power blanket to keep everyone from using magic would work. A drastic and desperate measure that might not even be possible.

Letting go of my hand, Moon Man stood.

“What you said about my future. Is it true?” I asked.

“Yes. You will become a slave to another.” The discussion over, Moon Man returned to the campfire.

We ate the stew in silence. Packing up, we mounted and spurred the horses toward the Avibian border. When we reached the road located between the plains and the fields of the Greenblade Clan’s lands, we turned north toward the Citadel and slowed the horses to a walk. At this late hour, the road was empty.

Being out of the plains gave us at least an illusion of safety, but I wanted to ride a little farther before we stopped for the night.

The next three days dragged. With hardly a word spoken between the three of us, an awkward hush resulted as we traveled to the Citadel. Moon Man’s comment about my future repeated in my mind, grating on my nerves like a high-pitched squeal. I wanted to know who would force me to be a slave and when, but I knew Moon Man would reply with a cryptic remark and I wouldn’t be smart enough to figure it out. The air turned cold and damp as we went farther north, and one night sleet pelted us, making our ride miserable.

Seeing the welcome sight of the white marble walls of the city on the third day, I spurred Kiki into a gallop. Gone from the Keep for eighteen days, I missed Irys, my old mentor who answered my questions with a refreshing directness, and my friends at the Magician’s Keep.

After crossing the south entrance gate of the outer wall, we walked the horses through the streets of the Citadel. Puddles of icy muck peppered the walkways. Citizens hurried through the intermittent rain, and the grayness cast a mournful facade over the expanse of marble buildings. The smell of wet wool clung to the air. We aimed for the Council Hall, which was located with the other government buildings in the southeast quadrant of the Citadel.

Home? Kiki looked with longing at the four towers of the Keep.

Soon, I said. Rest here for now. A stable for the Councilors had been erected behind the building. At least you’ll be out of the rain. Once Kiki and Garnet were settled, we entered the hall.

A guard informed us a Council meeting had just finished and we should go in before the Councilors left for the day. Entering the Great Hall, I spotted Irys talking to Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician. Groups of Councilors and aides formed small knots and the noise of their discussions filled the room. By the harsh tones and strident voices, I sensed the discussion hadn’t gone well and an undercurrent of fear trembled against my skin.

Moon Man and Tauno went directly to their Councilman, Harun Sandseed. I hung back, not wanting to interfere with the Sandseeds. Irys hurried toward me. She wore her stern Fourth Magician expression. She was worried. I scanned the clumps of Councilors with more care and I discovered the reason for her concern.

Cahil stood with Roze Featherstone and another Councilor. He laughed and talked as if he belonged there.

16

I MOVED TO CONFRONT Cahil. He should be in the dungeon for aiding and abetting a murderer, not standing in the middle of the Great Hall having a conversation with Roze. My alarm increased when I saw a few Vermin inside the Hall.

Irys had other plans. She grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.

“Now is not the time,” she said, appealing to me.

“What is going on?” I demanded.

Irys glanced around the room. A few Councilors stood close enough to overhear us, so she switched to our mental communication.

Cahil claims he’s been on an undercover mission this whole time, she said. He says that he didn’t free Ferde.

Why would anyone believe that? I asked.

Because Roze corroborated his story.

A lightning strike of shock ripped through my body. I hoped I misunderstood her. But her grim expression didn’t change.

It gets worse, she said. Cahil says he caught Marrok rescuing Ferde and, after interrogating him, Cahil discovered Ferde was on his way to rendezvous with others. Cahil followed the Soulstealer to discover what they plotted.

That’s ridiculous. We know Cahil beat Marrok to find out about his birth parents.

It’s Cahil’s word against Marrok’s at this point because there is no evidence to say who freed Ferde. Especially since Ferde can’t be questioned. Irys frowned. We’ll talk about your actions later, but whatever you learned from Ferde’s mind can’t be used as evidence.

Why not?

Because you were emotionally involved with the Soulstealer and your impartiality is suspect. I know—she went on, sensing my protest—it isn’t right, but when the Council discovered what you had done to Ferde, it confirmed their fears about you being a Soulfinder and validated Roze’s warnings.

I sighed. It had confirmed my fears, too. Where’s Ferde now?

In the Citadel’s jail, waiting for the Council to decide what to do with him. Although I think executing him would be a kindness.

Her censure hurt and guilt welled. I forced my thoughts away from Ferde and concentrated on Cahil. There had to be a way to show the Council the truth about his involvement. Where’s Marrok? What has he said?

Marrok is being held for questioning. He claims he didn’t free Ferde. He had no motive. But Cahil says Marrok wanted to frame him for the escape so Marrok could lead Cahil’s men. And also that Marrok lied to him, and Cahil really has royal blood.

My mind spun. Cahil had an answer for everything. So why was Cahil traveling with Ferde?

He says it was part of the undercover mission. Once he caught up with Ferde, he convinced Ferde he wanted to be a part of their plans. While he traveled with the Daviians, Cahil says he recruited them to switch sides. She gestured to the Vermin in the room.

Did he mention the Vermin using blood magic and the Fire Warper?

No. He didn’t, but Leif tried. Leif attempted to discredit Cahil and many of the Councilors thought he exaggerated about the Daviians. Unfortunately, Leif’s reputation for seeing doom and gloom in everything worked against him.

Did Cahil say what the Vermin plan to do? Half of me didn’t want to hear Irys’s response. I steeled myself.

According to Cahil, the Daviians’ leaders are in league with the Commander of Ixia. Together they plan to assassinate the Council and Master Magicians and, in the ensuing chaos, the Daviians will offer to help Sitia battle the Ixians. But there won’t really be a war and the Daviians will eventually turn Sitian’s government into a dictatorship.

Exactly what the Council feared since the Commander took over Ixia, and, combined with the resultant bad feelings from the Ixian Ambassador’s visit, the Councilors were primed for Cahil’s lies. So now it seemed Roze was right to warn the Council about the Commander. And I had no evidence to prove them wrong.

What about my training? I asked.

I didn’t think Irys could look any more upset, but she managed to deepen her scowl. The Council has given Roze permission to “assess” your involvement in these events and to determine what risk you pose to Sitia.

I’m sure that would be impartial. Do I have any say in this?

No. But the other Masters will be there as witnesses. All except me. My objectivity is considered compromised by our friendship.

Moon Man and Tauno finished their conversation with Harun. They came toward us.

Did you hear about the Sandseed massacre? I asked Irys.

Yes. Horrible news, and it gave Cahil more proof of the Daviian threat. The Council is preparing the Sitian army for war.

I didn’t even have to ask. Irys saw the question in my eyes.

War against the Daviians and against Ixia.

So much for my job as Liaison. War between Sitia and Ixia was the one thing I had hoped to avoid. There had to be more going on with the Daviian Vermin, though. I knew the Commander would never team up with them. They used blood magic, and he wouldn’t condone the use of any magic. Besides, he could attack Sitia without the Vermin’s help. Again, I had no proof.

Moon Man and Tauno joined us.

“There are about a dozen Sandseed survivors,” Moon Man said. “They came to the Citadel and are staying here for now. Only one Story Weaver besides me survived. It is Gede, and he is the one we need to talk to about the Fire Warper.”

Irys said, “Who—”

Moon Man kept talking. “You said Master Bloodgood has a few books about the Efe, right?”

“Yes,” I said.

“We should examine them. Gede and I will come to the Keep tomorrow morning.” Moon Man turned and walked away.

I watched his back, feeling uneasy. His whole attitude toward me had changed since he had tried to drag me into the shadow world. He acted as if he had given up on me.

“That was rather abrupt,” Irys said.

“He’s been through a lot.”

“And so have you. Tell me about this Fire Warper. Leif had only sketchy details.”

I reported all our adventures to her as we left the Council Hall and headed toward the Keep.

The next morning we assembled in Bain Bloodgood’s study. Occupying the entire second floor of his tower, Bain’s office was ringed with bookcases. They had been built around the long thin windows and every shelf overflowed with texts. A desk, a few wooden chairs and a ratty armchair looking as old as Bain resided in the center of the room. The sharp tang of ink permeated the air. Ink stained the desk’s top and Bain’s fingers. And the only space on the floor without a pile of books was a foot-wide path from the door to the desk.

The tension in the room pressed on my skin. Moon Man had folded his large frame into one of the chairs. He appeared uncomfortable and he glanced with longing outside. I shared his discomfort. The room felt crowded and tight even for me. Bain sat behind his desk, with Dax Greenblade standing next to him. Dax was Bain’s apprentice and he had the unique talent of being able to read ancient languages. His help in finding Ferde and rescuing Gelsi had been vital.

Irys stared at the other Sandseed Story Weaver with ill-concealed dislike. Gede had arrived with Moon Man and he had pushed his way into the room as if he belonged there. He carried his bulk with authority and appeared to be taller than he was. It wasn’t until he stood next to Irys that his true height was revealed. He matched Irys’s five feet eight inches.

“Those books belong to me,” Gede said.

Silence met his statement. Dax glanced at me. Incredulity flashed in his bottle-green eyes.

“My ancestor labored to banish all the knowledge about the blood magic, yet there they sit—” he gestured to the two open books on Bain’s desk “—for anyone to pick up and read.”

Irys said, “I doubt anyone but Master Bloodgood and Dax can read or understand the language—”

Gede cut her off. “It is all you need. One person to read it, to get ideas and to experiment with the knowledge. Blood magic is like no other—once you start you can not stop.”

“It appears the Vermin have discovered the information without these books,” I said.

“How do you know?” Gede asked. He peered at Dax with open suspicion. “Perhaps someone has been feeding them information.”

I stepped in front of Gede before Dax could defend himself. “Not from here. Besides, having these books might prove to be an advantage. Your ancestor Guyan defeated the Efe and perhaps the books contain information about how to counter the Vermin’s blood magic and to defeat the Fire Warper.”

“All the more reason to give them to me,” Gede said. “The Sandseeds will deduce a way to oppose the Daviians. After all, they are our problem.”

“Not anymore. They’ve gone beyond your problem,” Bain said. “We will keep the texts here. You’re welcome to study them with us.”

But Gede wouldn’t back down on his claim and Bain refused to give in. Eventually Gede rose to leave. He paused before me and scanned me with cold calculation in his dark eyes.

“Did you know Guyan was a Soulfinder?” Gede asked me.

Surprised, I said, “No. I thought he was the first Story Weaver.”

“He was both. You know nothing about Soulfinders.” He glared at Moon Man. “Your education is pathetic. I can teach you how to be a true Soulfinder.”

My heart jumped in my chest. The prospect of learning more about Soulfinders both thrilled and terrified me.

Gede must have seen the indecision on my face. “You do not need these books to defeat the Fire Warper.”

Too good to be true, I knew there had to be a catch. “I suppose you’ll guide me with some cryptic nonsense.”

“Bah!” Again Gede shot Moon Man an annoyed look. “There is no time for that. Interested?”

Logic warred with emotion. “Yes.” Emotion won.

“Good. I am staying in the Citadel’s guest quarters. Come at twilight. The moon should be up by then.” Gede swept out of the room, with Moon Man trailing behind him.

Irys raised one slender eyebrow at me. “I don’t—”

“Think it’s the best decision.” I finished for her. “Think I should rush into the situation and hope for the best.”

She smoothed out the sleeves of her tunic, giving me a wry look. “No. I don’t trust him.”

I lingered outside Roze’s tower, debating. This meeting with her, Bain and Zitora could be a trap. She could either trick me into confessing to conspiring against Sitia, or it could be my chance to redeem myself. Nice to have choices.

Bain opened the door and said, “Come in, child. It is cold outside.”

Decision made, I followed Bain into Roze’s home. A huge fire crackled and popped, spitting out sparks, which would have burned the threadbare carpet if Roze hadn’t doused the errant embers with her magic. With the memory of her fire attack seared in my mind, I chose a hard wood chair as far from the hearth and from her as possible.

Spartan and bare, the room lacked the cozy comfort of Irys’s living area and the scholarly smell of Bain’s study. Zitora, Third Magician, perched on the edge of her seat, another straight-backed chair without cushions. She kept her gaze on her hands. They were laced together in her lap. Bain occupied the only comfortable seat. Overstuffed and worn thin, the chair’s fabric was close to tearing, and by the annoyed frown on Roze’s face whenever she glanced at Bain, I guessed he had taken her favorite spot.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said into the awkward silence.

“Nervous?” Roze asked.

“No. I have a meeting in an hour and I need to wash my hair.”

Roze drew a breath.

“Ladies, please. This is difficult enough as it is,” Bain said. “Put your differences aside and let us assess the situation.”

Roze kept her comment to herself. Impressive. She gave Bain a stiff nod. He smoothed the wrinkles in his robe before continuing. “Yelena, you have shredded Ferde’s soul.”

“I—”

“No commenting until I am finished.”

The stern tone in Bain’s voice raised the hair on my arms. He was the second most powerful magician in the room. “Yes, sir.”

Satisfied, Bain resumed his lecture. “Your rash actions have set off a ripple of discontent within the Council. First you acted without their permission. Second, your ability to shred a soul alarmed the Councilors, including me. You have lost their trust, and therefore the information you uncovered through Ferde is invalid.”

I tried to meet Zitora’s gaze, but she averted her face.

“You are hereby ordered to stay out of Sitian affairs while we deal with this new Daviian threat. Roze has agreed to let you work with Gede to discover the extent of your powers and we will reassess how you can aid our efforts in the future.” Bain gestured for me to comment.

Protests pushed in my throat, but I swallowed them down as I wrestled my thoughts into a logical response. This meeting was an ambush. They didn’t want to question me, just dictate to me.

“What about Cahil? You can’t believe him?” I appealed to Bain.

“There is no proof he lied. First Magician supports him.”

“He’s always been selfish,” Roze said. “He wants only one thing. To aid the Daviians against Sitia runs counter to his desire. He needs our help to launch his campaign to claim Ixia. A country in the midst of a civil war wouldn’t be able to aid him at all.”

Roze’s reasonable logic worried me more than her anger. “How about the Fire Warper?”

A bright fireball erupted from the fire, and hovered above us. I squinted into the harsh light. The heat of the flames fanned my face. Roze curled her fingers into a fist and the fire ball disappeared. Opening her hand, she gestured and snuffed out the hearth fire, casting us into cold semi-darkness.

“I’m First Magician for a reason, Yelena. My command of fire is my best ability. You need not fear the Fire Warper. I’ll deal with him.” Flames ignited. Once again heat and light emanated from the hearth.

I couldn’t suppress my skepticism.

“Do you really think I would let the Daviians and this Fire Warper take control of Sitia? They wouldn’t take proper care of my country. No. I will do all I can to keep them from power, including protecting you from the Fire Warper.”

Now she was outright scaring me. “You want me dead.”

“True. You’re a threat to Sitia, but there is no proof. I can’t obtain the Council’s support to have you executed. But once I have evidence, you’re mine.”

This was more like the Roze I knew and hated. We glared at each other.

Bain cleared his throat. “Child, by listening to the Council and working with Gede Sandseed you will regain the Council’s trust.”

Learning about my powers was what I had desired all along. Ferde was no longer a threat and the Council knew about the Daviians. If they wished to believe Cahil, why should I care? The Commander’s army would prevail against Cahil. I had sought to avoid a war, but I held no sway within the Council. Why couldn’t I be selfish for once and stay out of politics while I explored my powers?

I agreed. But the slight rush of relief failed to ease the pang of doubt. Moon Man’s comment about becoming a slave to another echoed in my mind.

I returned to my rooms in Irys’s Keep tower. She had given me three of the ten floors to use. I trudged up the steps, anxious, worried and frustrated. Roze’s boast she could handle the Fire Warper had better be true. Bain’s Efe books described power symbols and blood rituals, but he had discovered nothing to counter them. And there was no mention of a Fire Warper.

Dax had translated the bulk of the books, but a few chapters remained. He planned to spend the afternoon working on them. My worry also stemmed from a comment Dax had made about Gelsi. Bain’s other apprentice, Gelsi, had been Ferde’s last victim, but I stopped him in time and revived her body and returned Gelsi’s soul.

When I had inquired about her, Dax’s vague response caused me to question him further.

“To tell the truth,” Dax had replied, “she’s different than before.”

“Different how?” I had asked.

“She’s harsher. Unhappy.” He moved his arms in a gesture of futility. “She no longer enjoys life. She’s more preoccupied with death. It’s hard to explain. Master Bloodgood is working with her. We hope it’s a condition she can work through and not—” Dax shrugged “—permanent. Maybe you can talk to her?”

I promised to visit her. Thinking back, I had returned two people’s souls to bodies that had been dead. Gelsi and Stono. And both came back changed. Were their altered personalities due to something I did when I held their souls? My anxiety grew over what I might discover about my Soulfinder abilities with Gede.

Uneasiness soured my stomach, and I remembered the attack Roze had sent me where Flame Me made a soulless army. While it didn’t apply to Gelsi and Stono, I recalled Stono’s offer to kill for me.

With those morbid thoughts, I reached my rooms. Even though I had three levels, I only possessed enough furniture to occupy one. An armoire, a desk, a single bed and night table looked lonely in the round room. I would need to do some shopping when I had the time. Right now finding souls took priority over finding curtains. Then I could be Yelena, the all-powerful Curtainfinder. Able to decorate a room in one hour.

I laughed out loud.

“What’s so funny?” a heart-melting voice asked from behind me.

Valek leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as if he visited me every day. Dressed as one of the Keep’s servants, he wore a gray tunic and pants.

“I was thinking about curtains.” I moved toward him.

“Curtains are funny?”

“In comparison to all my other thoughts, yes, curtains can be amusing. But you, sir, are the best thing that’s happened to me all day, all week and, now that I think about it, all season.” Two steps and I was wrapped in his arms.

“That’s the best welcome I’ve had all day.”

I could only imagine what he had been up to. His ability to get into any building undetected made him the most feared man in Sitia. And his immunity to magic terrified the Master Magicians. He was Commander Ambrose’s best weapon against them.

“Do I want to know why you’re here?” I asked.

“No.”

I sighed. “Should I know why you’re here?”

“Yes. But not now.” He leaned over and his lips met mine, and it no longer mattered why.

The late-afternoon sun woke me and reminded me about my meeting with Gede. I nudged Valek awake. We huddled under the blankets against the icy air.

Valek moved to get up. “I’ll make a fire—”

“No!” I grabbed his arm, stopping him.

He peered at me with concern. I marveled at the rich sapphire color of his eyes and how they contrasted with his pale skin.

“You’ll need to reapply your skin-darkening makeup,” I said, brushing a black strand of hair away from his face.

He held my hand. “Nice try, but you are going to tell me why you don’t want a fire.”

“Only if you tell me why you’re here.” I countered.

“Agreed.”

I filled him in on the series of events with Cahil, Ferde and the Fire Warper.

“It’s ridiculous to think the Commander is working with these Vermin.” Valek looked thoughtful. “So the Wannabe King has chosen to ignore the truth about his birth. You got to admit his ability to dupe the entire Council is impressive.”

“Not the entire Council. Irys doesn’t believe Cahil and I’m sure there are others.” I waved my hand in a shooing motion. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not my concern. I’ve been told to be a good little student and mind my own business.”

Valek snorted. “Like you would listen to them.”

“I agreed.”

He laughed long and hard. “You. Not. Get involved.” Valek paused to catch his breath. “You’ve been in the midst of trouble ever since you became the Commander’s food taster, love. You would never walk away.”

I waited until he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “This is different. Then I didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh? And you have a choice now?”

“Yes. I’ll let the Council deal with these Vermin and I’ll stay out of trouble.”

“But you know they can’t counter them.”

“They don’t want my help.”

Valek sobered and a hard edge glinted in his gaze. “What happens when the Vermin win?”

“I’ll stay with you in Ixia.”

“What about your parents? Leif? Moon Man? Irys? Do they come with you? And what happens when these Warpers with their incredible blood magic decide to follow you to Ixia? What choice will you have then?” He studied my face. “You can’t let your fear of the Fire Warper stop you from—”

Annoyed, I snapped. “The Council has stopped me. They’re the ones who are against me.” Besides, I didn’t want to think about my family—they were all grown people able to look after themselves. Then why did guilt tug at my heart and doubt squeeze my chest?

“You just said there’re a few Councilors on your side. Once the Council hears Marrok’s evidence tonight, they’ll believe you about the Wannabe King.”

“How did you know about Marrok?” Irys had just told me this morning. I had insisted on attending Marrok’s questioning, but she said the session was closed, for Councilors only.

Amusement returned to Valek’s face. “Servants. Their information network is far superior to a corps of trained spies.” In an offhand way, he added, “I’ll tell you about the session later tonight.”

“You rat! It’s a closed meeting. Only you would try to pull it off.”

“You know me, love.”

“I know. You crave a challenge and you’re cocky.”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t call it cocky. A certain amount of self-confidence is needed, especially for my line of work.” He turned serious. “And for yours.”

I ignored the implication. “Speaking of work, we made a deal. Why are you here?”

He stretched his arms over his head and yawned, pretending to consider my question.

“Valek,” I warned, poking him in the ribs. “Tell me.”

“The Commander sent me.”

“Why?”

“To assassinate the Sitian Council.”

17

I GAPED AT VALEK. Assassinating the Council would help the Vermin and support Cahil’s claims. “You’re not—”

“No. It’s the wrong thing to do right now. The Commander based his decision on the state of Sitian affairs before these Vermin showed up. He allowed me a degree of flexibility on this mission. We need to find out what’s going on. The Council meeting tonight might reveal crucial information.”

“We?”

“Yes. We.”

I sighed. I was disobeying direct orders from the Master Magicians and the Council again, getting involved with Sitian affairs. Would I ever agree with their decisions or was I deep down an Ixian just pretending to be impartial? Perhaps my session with Gede would be useful. I needed guidance as well as information.

Valek and I agreed to meet back in my room later tonight. He left.

Apprehension swirled around me like a thick fog as I dressed and walked to the Citadel’s guest quarters. The small clouds in the sky darkened as the light faded. The streets hummed with people finishing up their tasks for the day. Lamplighters began lighting the vast network of street lanterns. The main thoroughfares would be lit, but the back alleys would remain dark.

My concern grew as I passed a number of Vermin sauntering along the streets as if they owned the place. I avoided their gazes and wondered how the Council could be so swayed by Cahil’s words. Perhaps a Warper had influenced them with magic, making them more agreeable.

The Citadel’s guest quarters were located in a building behind the Council Hall and next to the stables. The two-story structure housed many apartments and I peered through the gloom, trying to determine which one Gede occupied. A shadow moved next to an entrance. Moon Man stepped from a pool of darkness.

“This way,” he said.

No emotion showed on his face. Gone was his sense of mischievousness and the spark of amusement in his eyes. I missed them.

“Moon Man, I—”

“You must not keep Gede waiting,” he said in a flat voice. “Your Story Weaver is ready for you.”

He ushered me inside, closing and locking the door behind us. Heat pressed against my skin as if I stood in an oven. A roaring fire blazed in the hearth, illuminating the living area. All the furniture had been pushed against the walls. Gede sat cross-legged on a mat in front of the fire. A few Sandseeds sat in the cleared space in the center of the room.

“Come. Sit.” Gede pointed to a mat in front of him.

I hesitated.

“You are the Soulfinder. You should not be afraid of fire. Sit or learn nothing.”

Removing my cloak and pack, I placed them by the entrance. I longed to pull my bow from its holder but ignored the desire. Instead, I joined Gede on the floor. Sweat ran down his round face. His skin appeared black in the firelight. A trick of the light revealed an intricate tattoo design connecting the scars on his bare arms. But when I blinked, the design was gone.

“As a Soulfinder you can examine a soul, twist it, hold it and return it. You can send your soul to others. And you can project your soul to the other worlds, and return without any harm being done to your body,” Gede instructed.

“The other worlds?”

“The fire world, the sky and the shadow world. You know about the shadow world from Moon Man. Moonlight is the gateway to the shadow world. The sky is the final resting place of our essence. The fire world is what some call the underworld. What it is supposed to be under, I have no idea. But that is where the Fire Warper lives. And where you must go.”

“Why? Why must it be me?”

Gede’s disappointment was evident by the sagging of his shoulders. “You are the Soulfinder. The Fire Warper’s soul is there.”

The heat from the room baked into my body. My shirt clung to my back. “How do I get there?”

“Through the fire.”

When I didn’t say anything, Gede continued. “Only you can go in and leave without being harmed. The Warpers have been feeding this creature with souls from the Kirakawa ritual. His strength grows.”

The flames in the fire pulsed with an urgency. They swelled to man-size. I looked at Gede in alarm, but he appeared serene.

“He waits for you. Go to him,” Gede said.

I stood. “No. I’m not ready. I don’t even know how to fight him. With magic?”

Gede sneered with disdain. “You have no idea, do you? All the better.”

Confused, I glanced between Gede and the fire, expecting the Fire Warper to step from the conflagration.

“He comes for you. If you will not go on your own, then I will provide an incentive.” He snapped his fingers. “Moon Man, show your pupil what she needs to do.”

Moon Man strode toward the blaze. The flames reached out to him. He extended his hands and the fingers of fire wrapped around his arms.

“No,” I yelled. “Get back.” I grabbed Moon Man’s shoulders and pulled to no avail.

The tendrils of fire advanced and crawled over my hands. A burning excitement tingled and souls writhed in agony within the depths of the blaze. Caught between worlds. Hundreds of them. They dragged us toward them.

My first instinct had been to resist, but their need for freedom, for relief clawed at my body. I needed to help them. Leaning with Moon Man, I pushed forward. The fire burned on my skin, but the pain stayed bearable and a cooling relief lurked on the other side. If I could just get through.

A hand tugged on my shoulders. I tried to shake the person off. “It’s okay. They need me.”

An arm from outside the fire world circled my neck and squeezed. My hands still clutched Moon Man’s shoulders, trapped in the fire world. “No. Stop. I must…”

The souls ceased their pleading and flinched. “Wait.” The word wheezed from my lips as I strained for air. But they hid and cowered. “I’ve come to help—”

“But who will help you, my little bat?” the Fire Warper asked.

I lost my grip on the Story Weaver. Without the breath to speak, I projected, Do something! into Moon Man’s mind.

I can not. I have no power here.

The fire world blurred into a blob of orange and yellow. I plucked at the arm around my neck, but my hands weighed a hundred pounds. The blob transformed into black.

I woke. Lying on my back, I squinted and blinked until my eyes adjusted to the darkness. The cold air moved like silk over my hot body. My head throbbed and the skin on my hands and arms sizzled with pain. I drew a thread of magic and used it to soothe my head and heal the blisters.

“How about helping me,” Leif said. He held out his arms. They had been scorched.

Leif sat next to me. We were in an alley in the Citadel. Concentrating, I pulled power and healed his burns. My energy sapped, I leaned back against a wall as a wave of dizziness made my head spin.

“What happened?” My voice croaked as pain ringed my neck.

“I had business in the Citadel tonight and thought I’d wait for you by the guest quarters. Out of nowhere Valek appeared.” Leif paused, but when I failed to explain, he continued. “He muttered a comment about a Council meeting and asked where you were. By the firelight blazing through the windows, it wasn’t hard to figure out. Valek picked the lock and we peeked in time to see you and Moon Man hug the fire.”

He wiped soot from his face with a sleeve. “Valek attacked the Sandseeds inside and yelled for me to get you. Gede screamed for me to leave you alone, that you need to learn. Valek’s scarier than Gede, so I listened to him, but I couldn’t pull you away from the fire. I choked off your air until you passed out. Carried you out here.”

I touched my neck. “Did you do the same for Moon Man?”

“He was too far in. I couldn’t reach him.” Leif’s voice cracked with anguish. “Does the Fire Warper have him?”

“I don’t know. It was strange. I’m not certain what just happened.” My brain felt overcooked and logic stuck to the sides of my skull like a burnt crust. I needed another opinion. “Where’s Valek?”

“Disappeared. But he left your cloak and pack. And orders.” Leif smiled ruefully. “We are to leave the Citadel as soon as possible.”

“Did he say why?”

“No. Just to meet him about two miles south of the Citadel.”

I stood, wrapped my cloak around me and shouldered my pack. My legs protested the weight. “Let’s get our horses and supplies from the Keep.”

Leif shook his head. “He said not to return to the Keep for any reason.”

I mulled over the implications. Valek had been in the closed Council session where they questioned Marrok. Evidence must have been gleaned, but obviously not in our favor. So much for my promise to visit Gelsi.

We fled the Citadel and camped in a farm field west of the main road. With no supplies, and me refusing to let Leif light a fire, a miserable night loomed. We huddled in the dark.

Leif muttered over Valek’s reason for sending us here. I cursed my own stupidity; I didn’t have to wait for Valek. I could contact Irys myself.

I asked Leif to keep watch.

“Better than freezing to death,” he said.

Lying on the hard ground, I projected my thoughts. Irys’s tower sparked with life. And instead of finding the Master Magician sleeping, she was bent over a handful of books in her study. Because of the bond we shared, her thoughts were open to me.

Irys, I said in her mind.

Yelena! Thank fate! Are you okay?

I’m fine.

Where are you?

I don’t know if I should answer. What happened at the Council session?

A long pause. Marrok confessed.

To what? He didn’t do anything.

To freeing Ferde and conspiring against Sitia.

Stunned, my mind blanked for a moment. What…what was his motive?

Just like Cahil said. Marrok wanted to get Cahil arrested and be in charge of Cahil’s men. But…

Go on, I urged.

There’s a new wrinkle. Marrok conspired to team up with Ferde and the Daviians to provoke a war with Ixia.

Why is that new? We already know the Daviians want war.

The new part is Marrok named accomplices. Another pause. You and Leif.

My body numbed. Unbelievable. Someone must have forced Marrok to confess. It’s all a lie. Did you feel any magic being used? How can the Council swallow that? The thoughts tumbled one after another.

Unless you have some proof otherwise, the Council has signed an arrest warrant for you and Leif. They wish to capture you so you can be safely executed.

I almost laughed at the words safely and executed said together. The whole situation was ridiculous.

I’m not supposed to be telling you this either. I could be incarcerated in the Keep’s dungeon if the Council finds out. Bain and I are already being watched for disagreeing with them. They’ve gone quite mad.

That’s putting it mildly.

What are you going to do? Irys asked.

There has to be a reason the Council has gone mad. Discovering the reason should be next. Guess I really was going to stick my nose in Sitia’s business. Nothing like having a warrant for your execution to get a girl motivated.

But all the clans will be alerted to your arrest warrant, and there’s already talk of a reward. There’s no safe place for you in Sitia.

I’ll figure something out, and I think it’s best if I don’t contact you again for a while. You’re already under suspicion. I don’t want to compromise you any further.

Good point. Be very careful, Yelena.

I’ll try. But you know me.

Yes, I do. So I’ll say it again. Be very careful.

I pulled my awareness back, breaking our connection. Exhaustion dragged at my body and I would have drifted to sleep if Leif hadn’t bumped my arm.

“Oh, no you don’t, little sister. You were gone a long time. Tell me what’s happening.”

I filled Leif in on the details and managed to shock him into a rare silence.

“So what do we do now?” Leif finally whispered.

“We wait for Valek.”

Valek arrived near dawn. He rode Kiki and had Rusalka in tow. The saddlebags bulged with supplies. Fatigue lined his face.

He peered at me. “You know?”

“Yes.”

Valek dismounted. “Good. Saves time. The Citadel and Keep are crawling with soldiers looking for you.”

“How did you get the horses out then? A secret spy maneuver?” Leif asked.

“No. A distraction at the Keep’s gate, and I bribed the guards at the Citadel’s south entrance.”

Leif groaned. “Now they’ll know where we are.”

“I want them to think you went south. But you should get as far away from here as possible.”

“And go where?” Leif asked.

“Ixia.”

“Why would we do that?” Leif’s jaw set into a stubborn line.

Danger flashed in Valek’s eyes, but he bit back a sarcastic reply. “Things are happening too fast right now. We need to regroup and plan. We need reinforcements.”

Valek made sense. Ixia was the only place where we would be safe.

“We should go now,” I said.

“I’ll meet you at the Commander’s castle.” Valek handed me Kiki’s reins.

She nudged my arm, but I ignored her. “You’re not coming with us?”

“No. I still have a few of my corps inside the Citadel. They need to be informed about what’s happening. I’ll join you at the castle afterward.”

Before he could go, I pulled him aside. We embraced.

“Stay safe,” I ordered.

He smiled. “I’m not the one getting pulled into fires, love.”

“How did you know I was in trouble?”

“After I heard the Council agree to your execution, I had an odd notion the Council was the least of your worries.”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“You keep things interesting, love. It would be boring without you.”

“Is that all I am to you? An amusement?”

“If only it was that simple.”

“I guess I’m no longer retired.” I managed a tired smile.

Valek kissed me goodbye. “Take a roundabout route to Ixia. The borders north of the Citadel will probably be watched.”

“Yes, sir.”

Valek left and the air turned cold. I shivered. Kiki nipped at my sleeve and I opened my mind to her.

I stay with Lavender Lady. Keep warm.

I’m glad you’re here, I said. I checked my pockets for a treat. No luck.

Ghost put peppermints in bag.

I laughed. Kiki always knew where to find the mints. I marveled that Valek had taken the time to include treats in his packing. The horses’ name for him was perfect, though. He appeared and disappeared as if he were a true ghost.

“Which way?” Leif asked.

Good question. Valek said to go around. The best direction would be to head northwest through the fields of the Stormdance Clan’s lands. Then head north toward Ixia, skirting the Featherstone lands surrounding the Citadel. I outlined my plan to Leif.

“Lead on.” Leif’s resignation tainted his voice. “I’ve never been to Ixia.”

Throughout the day, our passage through the fields hadn’t drawn any notice, but we still felt exposed by the daylight. Leif and I decided to do the bulk of our traveling during the night. After a short break for dinner, we rode through the dark hours. Between galloping, walking and resting, the horses made progress toward our goal.

We found an apple orchard as the sun dawned. Kiki sniffed around the neat rows of trees, but they had been picked clean of apples. Nothing grew in this area during the cold season. Deciding to camp within the shelter of the orchard, we found a site hidden from the few surrounding farmsteads.

“Have we crossed into Stormdance lands?” I asked Leif as I pulled Kiki’s saddle off her back.

“Not yet. See that ridge?” He pointed to the northwest.

“Yes.”

“That’s their border. Stormdance lands are mostly shale. They have a few farms in the eastern portion of their territory, but the west side is just sheets of shale on top of rock. The storms blown in from the Jade Sea have carved fantastic sculptures along their coast, but no one lives there. They only go to the coast to dance.” Leif sat down and assembled sticks for a fire.

I plopped next to him. Saddle sore and drained of energy, I delayed grooming the horses. “Why do they dance?”

“It’s how they harness the power from the storms. They capture the storm’s force in glass orbs. It’s a dangerous dance, but the risk is worth it. If they’re successful, they protect our land. Instead of being lashed with gale-force winds and soaked with heavy rains, Sitia receives a mild rain. The added benefit is the Stormdancers can use those orbs to fuel their factories.”

I gestured for more information.

“Haven’t you paid attention in class?”

“My lessons kept getting interrupted by mundane things like chasing after a Soulstealer. I’ll try harder in the future to ignore such events.”

“Boy, you’re grumpy when you’re tired.” Leif started a small fire and poured water into his cooking pot. “This container was made by the Stormdance Clan. They smelt ore to manufacture different metal items, including Sitian coins. They also produce parchment and make ink from indigo plants they grow on their eastern farms.”

I mulled over Leif’s lecture. Buying goods at the market, I hadn’t stopped to consider who might have made them. In Ixia, every Military District had a particular product or service contributing to the Territory which could be used for barter and trade. It appeared Sitia worked the same way, although the Stormdancers were a new twist. I wondered if they could harness the power of the blizzards blowing down from the northern ice pack. Life in MD-1, MD-2 and MD-3 turned into a struggle for survival during the cold season.

Would Commander Ambrose consider lifting his ban on magicians to alleviate the storms? He had grown up in MD-3, working in the diamond mines so he was no stranger to the incapacitating snowstorms. Even Valek, who had lived in MD-1, had seen his father’s leather business destroyed by the heavy snow.

I thought about the chain of events that had started with the collapse of Valek’s father’s roof. He didn’t have enough money to replace his equipment, feed his family and pay taxes to the King. When Valek’s father asked the soldiers, who had come to collect the taxes, for an extension, they had killed three of his four sons. That act sent Valek on a mission of revenge against a King who allowed his soldiers to murder innocent children. Becoming the best assassin in Ixia, Valek eventually joined forces with Ambrose. Together they had defeated the King and gained control of Ixia.

If the roof hadn’t collapsed, I wondered if the King would still be in power or if Ambrose would have found another assassin to help him. Would I even be here?

I shied away from those thoughts and focused on our present situation. Leif and I needed to guard our small camp. He manned the first shift while I tried to sleep.

The fire had been doused as soon as our meal was cooked. The smoke drifted on the breeze. Dreams swirled in my mind like sparks rising from a hot fire. The dizzying images slowed for a moment, and each time I glimpsed a horror. Stono’s twisted stomach transformed into a necklace snake. Blood rained in the Illiais Jungle. Severed heads floated over the sands of the plains. And fire danced on my skin. The hot prick of each flame both seared and excited me.

I jerked awake. My skin tingled. Afraid to go back to sleep, I sent Leif to bed.

Uneasy sleep came in fits during the next two days. We kept out of sight, used small fires to cook meals before we extinguished the flames, and shivered on the cold, hard ground. On the third day, we crossed into the Krystal Clan’s lands and turned north for the Ixian border.

Located directly west of the Featherstone Clan and the Citadel, the rolling terrain of the Krystals’ land was dotted with clumps of pine trees. Quarries stretched between the wooded areas. The Krystal Clan mined marble for buildings and exported the high-quality sand needed by the glassmakers in Booruby, leaving behind deep pits gouged into the ground.

We avoided the bustle of activity around the quarries and journeyed through the pine forests. Another day of travel would get us to the Ixian border. Our approach to the boundary needed to be considered with care. Sitian soldiers could be waiting to ambush us. And if we managed to get through, I would need to choose the right words when addressing the Ixian guards. Or risk being arrested by them.

In the end, all the planning, all the time and energy Leif and I had spent finding the perfect spot to cross the border without alerting the Sitians was for naught. Just as we made our way into the hundred-foot-wide swatch of cleared land that was the official neutral zone between Ixia and Sitia, two riders on horseback bolted from the pine forest and into the borderland.

Two things happened that made the riders’ presence go from bad timing to a deadly coincidence. Their horses headed straight toward us, and a whole squad of Sitian solders erupted from the woods in armed pursuit.

18

ONLY ONE OPTION REMAINED. We spurred our horses toward the border, hoping the Ixian guards would listen to our story before killing us. The unwelcome riders drew up beside us as we entered Ixia’s Snake Forest. They kept pace as we penetrated deep within the forest before stopping.

As expected, the Sitian soldiers hadn’t followed us into Ixia.

“Stay where you are,” a voice ordered from the woods. “You are surrounded.”

I knew the Ixians would be quick to find us. Just not this quick. I had chosen midmorning to cross into Ixia to avoid the changing of the guards. At this time, there was only one team of soldiers on duty.

“Drop your weapons and dismount,” the unseen guard said.

Topaz. Garnet, Kiki said. She whinnied a greeting.

Cahil’s horse? I pulled my bow and rounded on the riders, ignoring the orders from the guards. Two men sat on Topaz and Moon Man rode Garnet. “What? How?”

With shaking hands, one of the riders on Topaz pulled back his hood, revealing his pale face before collapsing. Tauno held him tight.

“Marrok! What—” An arrow struck a tree next to me.

“Drop your weapons and dismount. Or the next arrow goes into her heart!” the Ixian shouted.

I tossed my bow to the ground and gestured to the others to follow. Tauno slid off Topaz, lowered Marrok down, then removed his bow and arrows. Moon Man frowned but released his scimitar before getting off Garnet. Leif tossed his machete next to my staff.

“Step away from the weapons and raise your hands.”

We did as instructed. I made sure to step closer to Marrok. An arrow had pierced his side.

The ring of Ixian soldiers closed in. I counted four men and two women. Armed with crossbows and swords, they advanced on us.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t send you back to the squad of southerners?” asked an Ixian captain.

His uniform was mostly black except for a row of yellow diamond shapes down his sleeves and pant legs. We had crossed into Ixia’s MD-7.

“Because it wouldn’t be diplomatic to turn away a Sitian delegation,” I said.

The captain laughed. “Delegations come with honor guards not fleeing guards. Want to tell me another one?”

“I’m Liaison Yelena Zaltana. I’m here to speak with the Commander even though my visit is not sanctioned by the Sitian Council.”

“Yelena? The ex-food taster who saved the Commander?” the captain asked.

“Yes.”

“But you have magic. Why would you want to come back to Ixia? I could kill you now and be considered a hero.”

“I see your reputation has preceded you,” Leif said, grinning. I hoped his good humor was relief over seeing Moon Man alive and well and not over the death threat to me.

I frowned at him. Leif didn’t understand just how precarious a situation we were in. The captain’s boast had merit. I was quite sure the rumors about the order for my execution had traveled throughout Ixia, while the fact that the Commander had ripped up those orders when I agreed to be a Liaison probably had not.

Especially since everyone in Sitia and Ixia believed the Commander had stayed behind in Ixia when the Ixian delegation visited Sitia a couple months ago. The Commander had been disguised as Ambassador Signe, and she had no authority to cancel an execution order.

Because of the edict that magicians were not allowed in Ixia unless invited, and any Ixians discovered with magical powers were put to death, I had one volatile situation on my hands.

While killing us wouldn’t be easy, the captain had what amounted to standing orders to execute us on the spot. If he succeeded, though, he would have to face Valek. I shied away from that line of thought.

Instead, I said, “The Commander has appointed me as a Liaison with the Council. I am a neutral third party so I would not come with an honor guard of Sitians. I come with friends. Those guards had been chasing him.” I gestured to Marrok’s prone form. “I need to discuss something important with the Commander right away.”

The captain’s crossbow wavered. He appeared to be considering my answer. I pulled a thread of magic and skimmed his mind, touching only on his surface thoughts and emotions.

His ambition warred with his intelligence. Tired of guarding the border, the captain wanted a promotion and reassignment. Killing these southern magicians would give him enough recognition to become a major. But what if Yelena told the truth? The Commander wouldn’t be happy to have his Liaison killed. Still, bringing a magician close to the Commander would be dangerous. What if Yelena lied and planned to assassinate him?

I nudged his thoughts to trust us and to believe that if he led us to his commanding officer, he would be doing a commendable deed.

“You will accompany me and my squad,” the captain said. “We will confiscate your weapons and horses, and you will obey all orders. Any trouble or signs of revolt and you will be incapacitated.” He signaled for a few of his soldiers to approach us. “Search them. What about him?”

I looked at Marrok. “Let me attend to his wounds, Captain…”

“Nytik.” Again the captain signaled to one of his soldiers. “Lieutenant, search him for weapons.”

After the lieutenant secured Marrok’s sword, he gave me permission to examine him. The arrow had pierced Marrok’s right side, missing his ribs. There wasn’t much blood and the arrow hadn’t gone deep. Why was Marrok unconscious?

Accessing my magic, I scanned the rest of his body. He had been beaten. Two ribs and his collarbone were broken. A mass of bruises covered his body and his jawbone was cracked.

“Leif, I’m going to need some help.” Healing the extensive damage in Marrok’s body would exhaust me and I needed to reserve some energy in case Captain Nytik changed his mind.

“A poultice?” Leif knelt next to me.

“No. His story threads are frayed.” Moon Man placed his large hand on Marrok’s forehead.

I glared at Moon Man. “Stay away from him. Leif, let’s deal with the physical injuries first.”

Moon Man retreated. Leif and I drew power from the source. With my brother’s help, I assumed his injuries and repaired them. When Marrok woke, Leif gave him water and a sustaining tonic to revive him.

I questioned him on what had happened and why he was here, but Marrok just stared at me with a wild, unconnected look in his eyes. Worried about his mental state, I projected my awareness into his thoughts.

A cacophony of images flooded his mind. Memories and emotions and secret thoughts were exposed, unlocked and left to run amok, as if someone had taken a library full of books and torn and scattered them all around the room. The sheer amount of disarray overwhelmed Marrok. He could no longer bring two thoughts together to form a coherent sentence.

And there in the middle of the mess, gleefully shredding what remained of Marrok’s mind, was Roze Featherstone, First Magician.

She turned to me. There you are. I knew I’d find you in here if I looked hard enough. Now I can discover where you’ve been hiding.

She advanced, but I held my position. I’m not a memory, Roze. You won’t be able to extract anything from me.

I wouldn’t be so sure. Too much confidence can be a weakness.

You tried twice before and failed. I’m feeling pretty certain about my prediction. Why did you destroy Marrok’s mind?

She glanced around at the chaos. He’s a criminal. And you shouldn’t be so shocked. It’s no different than when you destroyed the Soulstealer’s mind.

I ignored the jab. Marrok isn’t a criminal and you know it. Did you force him to make a false confession?

He was honest, unlike you. You’ve been lying to us and to yourself, thinking you can be a benefit to Sitia. Now the Council knows the danger and I have permission to eliminate the threat you pose.

Again I failed to be impressed with her boast. How did Marrok and the others find us?

Roze smiled. You’ll have to figure that out on your own.

Are you trying to tell me I have a spy in my midst?

Dishonest people tend to find each other, Yelena. It’s the price you pay for associating with the criminal element. Frankly, I was surprised the Council hadn’t given me permission to neutralize you before. After all, how can they trust the heart mate of the most feared man in Sitia? Think about it. How could you be a Liaison when it’s obvious where your loyalties lie? First sign of trouble and you’re running for home. I will tell you one thing. You won’t be safe in Ixia.

I didn’t say anything, but she laughed. I have found what I needed. Good luck trying to put the pieces of Marrok’s mind back together.

She faded from his consciousness. Standing in the middle of the destruction she had left behind, I knew restoring order would be an impossible task. I returned to my body. There was nothing I could do.

Roze had the Council’s support against me. If I hadn’t known any better, the web of lies Cahil spun made complete sense. Roze even made sense. If she was as dedicated to Sitia as she claimed, then her efforts to discredit me were valid. Why trust me? I’m a Soulfinder, the one type of magician with an evil history. It would take a major effort and physical evidence to counter Cahil now.

“Moon Man, how did you find us?” I asked.

“Logic. I knew you would go to Ixia and I knew you would not cross the Avibian Plains in order to go around Featherstone lands. So that left west. Tauno found your trail in the Krystal lands.”

It was too much of a coincidence. “But Leif saw you disappear into the fire. And what about Marrok and the horses? How did you get them?” He had help and must have been sent by Cahil or Roze. Moon Man worked for them now.

“Gede pulled me from the fire. Marrok had been dumped in the infirmary and left unguarded. The horses came when we needed them.”

It still sounded too easy. “Why did Gede insist I go into the fire?”

“You will have to ask him. He is your Story Weaver now. I can not guide you.” His tone held sadness.

“Why did you go into the fire, Moon Man?” Leif asked.

“Gede is the only surviving leader of my clan. I follow his orders.”

“Even when your life’s at stake?”

“Yes. Loyalty to one’s clan comes before personal safety.”

“Like being bait for a necklace snake?” Leif gazed at me.

“Exactly,” Moon Man said.

“Can your man walk?” Captain Nytik asked. He had been standing nearby, watching us with distaste creasing his forehead. “We need to get moving.”

Marrok couldn’t walk, but he could ride. Kiki and Topaz’s heads were together. I connected to Topaz, and asked, Go home? Miss Peppermint Man?

No. Stay.

Why? Topaz had been with Cahil for a long time.

Bad smell. Blood.

I turned to the captain. “He’ll sit on his horse.”

With the lieutenant in the lead, Moon Man, Leif, Tauno and I followed. The captain and his remaining soldiers formed a rear guard. We traveled north through the Snake Forest. On a map, the forest resembled a thin rope of green that undulated along the entire east-west border from the Jade Sea to the Emerald Mountains. After a half day of travel, we arrived at a guard station and barracks.

Another round of explanations had to be endured before we could care for the horses and eat lunch. We sat in the middle of the guard house’s dining area surrounded by fifty suspicious soldiers who shot us hard glances between bites of food. Moon Man guided Marrok with a gentle patience. Basic skills like eating and caring for himself would all have to be relearned.

During our cold meal of venison jerky and bread, I explained to my companions about Ixia’s uniform system. “Everyone who lives in Ixia must wear a uniform. The standard colors for the shirts, pants and skirts are black and white, but each Military District has its own color. We’re in MD-7, which is governed by General Rasmussen, who reports to the Commander. Rasmussen’s color is yellow and you’ll see a line of yellow diamond shapes somewhere on the uniforms.” I gestured to the guards around us. Their uniforms matched the captain’s, but the rank insignia on their collars were different. “A cook’s uniform is all white with diamonds printed side by side across the shirt. The color of the diamonds tells you which district the cook works in. Red is the Commander’s color.”

“Who’s that?” Leif pointed to woman heading our way. She wore all black, but had two red diamonds stitched onto her collar. Her blond hair was pulled into a tidy bun. She held two bows in her hands.

“She’s an adviser to the Commander.” I stood and grinned.

She tossed me my bow. I caught it. The noise in the room ceased the instant it hit my hand.

“Okay, Puker, let’s see if you’ve been practicing,” she said with an exultant yet predatory glint in her eyes.

“Adviser Maren, didn’t your mother teach you it’s not nice to call people names?” I hefted my bow. “Especially not armed people.”

She waved away my comment. “We’ll deal with the niceties later. Stuck in this backwoods, I haven’t had a decent bow fight in a long time. Come on!” She beckoned me to follow as she threaded her way through the dining room.

“Should we be worried?” Leif asked.

“She taught me all her tricks, but I’ve learned a few new ones since our last fight. This should be…interesting.”

“Play nice,” Leif said.

I navigated through the quiet room. It erupted with sound as soon as I left. A mass of soldiers followed me outside.

Maren stretched her muscles before picking up her bow. Tall and lean, she made a formidable opponent. She swung her six-foot staff with deft hands. At a slight disadvantage, my bow measured only five feet. I removed my cloak and rubbed my hands along the smooth wood of my weapon, setting my mind into the zone of concentration I used when fighting. Not quite magical in origin, this mental state kept my mind open to my opponent’s intentions.

As soon as I was ready she attacked with two quick strikes toward my ribs. I blocked both, countering with a strike to her arms. The fight began in earnest.

The rhythmic crack of our weapons filled the air. I ducked a temple strike and thrust the end of my bow staff toward her stomach. She stepped back and attempted to trip me with her bow. I jumped and did a front kick in midair, hitting her shoulder. Maren retreated a few steps before coming at me with a series of jabs.

“Did you get tired of losing to Janco all the time and request a transfer?” I asked, knocking her bow aside and executing a flurry of temple strikes. Maren had been a captain in the Commander’s Special Forces, along with my friends Ari and Janco.

“I was promoted,” she said. She met my assault and feinted to the right.

Sensing her intentions, I ignored the feint and stopped the blow to my head just in time. “Promoted to adviser? Sounds shady. Bribe anyone I know?”

“Once I beat Valek, I could choose any job in Ixia.”

I froze for a moment in surprise and she hit my upper arm, knocking me over. I rolled, avoiding her jabs, but she pressed her advantage. Two moves later, she sat on my chest and pressed her bow to my neck. The crowd of soldiers cheered.

“Concede?”

“Yes.”

She grinned and pulled me to my feet. “Rematch?”

“Give me a minute.” I brushed the dirt from my clothes.

“What’s with the skirt?”

“It’s not a skirt. See?” Pulling the fabric apart, I revealed the pants.

She snorted with amusement. “We need to get you back into uniform, Yelena.”

Her use of my proper name meant that I had at least impressed her with my fighting skills. Which reminded me of her comment that had thrown me off guard. “What’s all this about you beating Valek? You’re adequate with a bow, but, come on, Valek?”

Valek had issued a challenge to everyone in Ixia. Beat him in a fight with the weapon of your choice and win the right to become his second in command. Many soldiers had tried and failed to win the right.

“Adequate?” She laughed. “I guess when I beat you again, you’ll up it to decent.”

“That’s if you beat me, and you haven’t answered my question.”

“I had help. Happy now? Valek never said we had to beat him one on one. Three of us got together and we won the right to pick any position in Ixia. I chose to become an adviser for the Commander. I’m in MD-7 on a temporary assignment to deal with some—” she glanced at the soldiers “—issues.”

Three against one was still good odds for Valek. I wondered who the other two were, and the answer came to me. “Please don’t tell me Ari and Janco were your partners.”

Her chagrined expression confirmed my guess.

“Janco was insufferably smug before. There’ll be no living with him,” I said.

“Valek’s challenge has been modified. Since Janco and Ari have been promoted to Valek’s seconds, if other soldiers want to claim the second positions they must beat Ari and Janco, but no more than six can attack at one time. Valek’s seconds should be able to handle three each. If a soldier wishes to fight Valek alone, he must beat one of us to have the chance.”

“Having Janco in charge when Valek’s away is a scary state of affairs.”

“Not as scary as when you’re begging for mercy.” Maren swung her bow.

I blocked and countered. Soon we were engaged in another brisk fight. But this time I stayed focused. I swept her feet out from under her and stepped on her bow before she could roll away. I won the match and received a few cheers from my brother, who had joined the audience. Moon Man and the others stood apart. He watched me with no expression on his face.

“Tie breaker?” Maren didn’t wait for an answer. Round three began.

We fought until we reached an impasse.

Leif’s voice interrupted us before we started another match. “As much as I enjoy watching my sister get beaten, we really need to talk to the Commander. You’re wasting time.”

Maren studied Leif with a dubious expression. “I don’t see a family resemblance.”

I introduced my brother to Maren. “Although I hate to admit it, Leif’s right. We need to go.”

Maren shook her head. “General Rasmussen wants to talk with you first. These soldiers have orders to keep you here until he gives you permission to leave.”

“But I’ve explained—”

“Everything but exactly what you need to discuss with the Commander.”

“That’s classified.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Maren leaned on her bow. “The general has become…cautious in his advancing years. He won’t let you leave unless you tell him the reason you came to Ixia.”

From her choice of words, I could tell there was more to the story. She worked for the Commander but was helping the general, and probably reporting every bit of information to Valek.

“We’ll talk to the general then,” I agreed.

“Great. I’ll schedule an audience with him tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? We have pressing business.”

“I’m sorry. The general retires early. He’ll see no one tonight.”

Leif opened his mouth to protest. I touched his arm, stopping him. Maren and I had dueled the afternoon away, and I suspected she had a good reason for it.

“All right. We’ll wait until tomorrow. How long will it take us to get to the manor? Perhaps it would be best to leave tonight?”

“No. It would be best to leave in the morning. It’s a half-day’s ride.” Maren led us to a brick cottage with a stable nearby. “You can stay in our guest quarters. This location is a popular spot for travelers from MD-6 to stop.”

The castle complex was located in the southern end of MD-6. Two-and-a-half days’ ride directly north of Sitia’s Citadel. I found it interesting the two centers of political power remained physically close while their governing styles were worlds apart.

We entered the cottage. Although the furnishings in the main room were sparse, it looked comfortable enough. Guards stationed themselves outside, but one lieutenant followed us in.

“Beds! They have beds with feather mattresses,” Leif called from a bedroom.

“There is wood in the back, and you can dine with the soldiers for your evening meal. I’ll let the general know when you’re arriving.” Maren left with the Lieutenant close on her heels, but two guards remained positioned by the front door.

A quick peek out the side and back windows revealed the presence of more guards. We were surrounded. I thought about Maren’s comments. A few of the things she said didn’t add up. I wondered what she planned to do. All I knew were my plans, and they didn’t include visiting the general.

I joined my traveling companions in the bedroom. Moon Man sat next to Marrok, who lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Tauno perched on the edge of a chair.

Leif had stretched out across one of the beds. A sigh of contentment escaped his lips. “I haven’t slept in a bed since…since…I can’t even remember!”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” I said.

He groaned. “Now what?”

I put a finger over my lips then pointed to my forehead. Too many ears around, I said in his mind.

What’s going on? he asked.

We are not going to waste time with the general, Moon Man said.

I scowled at him in surprise, forgetting that he could link his mind to ours.

Since you have chosen Gede as your guide, I had to channel through Leif.

I ignored Leif’s confusion. Unchannel then. This is a private conversation.

Moon Man remained quiet for a while. I will withdraw.

Care to tell me what that was about? Leif asked.

I filled him in on my conversation with Roze. Moon Man’s a spy.

No way. You can’t believe that.

Are you saying Roze is lying?

No. I’m saying maybe you’re overreacting. Moon Man admitted Gede is his boss. Their clan was decimated by the Vermin so Gede and Roze want the same thing. Gede probably sent Moon Man to keep an eye on you.

And that’s different than spying how?

He’s probably here to protect you. To keep you safe until your name can be cleared.

It would be nice just to ask him, but I’m sure he has a vague non-answer already prepared.

That’s harsh, Yelena. He has witnessed the massacre of his clan. Although, I do wish for the old Moon Man back, Leif said. I’ll take his teasing, cryptic advice and mysterious arrivals over his somber demeanor any day.

My brother put another pillow under his head. Looks like we’ll be in Ixia for a while. Leif Liana Ixia has a nice ring to it. If they don’t execute me for being a magician, perhaps I can find a job at an Ixian apothecary. Do they have uniforms for an apothecarist?

We’re going back to Sitia.

To certain death? No thank you. Perhaps the Commander will need one of my tisanes?

We need to talk to the Commander and rendezvous with Valek. I hoped.

Surrounded by guards. Remember?

That’s right. We’re outnumbered. It’s a shame we don’t have magic to help us. A mage could put the guards to sleep. Or better yet we could use Curare. Too bad I don’t have any blowpipes in my backpack.

Sarcasm is an ugly trait, little sister. You should avoid it.

And you give up too easy. And trust too easy, but I wouldn’t say it to him.

I blame the feather mattress. It has sucked all my motivation. If there is a comfortable bed in my apartment above my apothecary shop, I will be quite content living in Ixia.

Leif. I warned.

All right. All right. I’ll make you a few blowpipes just in case we can’t put everyone to sleep. He grumbled to himself as he rolled out of bed and went over to his pack.

I debated what I should tell Tauno and Moon Man. As long as we didn’t have a fire, I could warn them about my plans. And I wanted them with me so I could keep an eye on them.

“We should go to bed early tonight,” I said to them. “To rest for tomorrow.”

They appeared to understand my hint. Once the Ixian soldiers had gone to bed, we would make our escape.

I planned to be at the Commander’s castle before the MD-7 guards realized we had gone. Approaching the main gate of the castle complex without an Ixian guide would create instant suspicion, but that was a problem I would deal with when it arose.

After having dinner with the soldiers, I eyed our new set of guards with care, trying to size them up. I knew Tauno and Moon Man wouldn’t pass for Ixian, so either Leif or I would have to wear a uniform and pose as a soldier until we reached the Commander. Ideally, I should disguise myself, but at five feet four inches tall, I doubted I would find a uniform that fit.

Not bothering to build a fire, we retired early. I slept for a few hours. The luxury of being in an actual bed made it difficult to rouse. But I forced myself to get up and woke the others, gesturing for quiet.

Leif didn’t have the skills to put our guards to sleep, but he could complement my energy. I held his hand and projected my awareness to the circle of soldiers. Three men and one woman stood watch. Reaching farther, I connected to the horses in the stable.

Ready? I asked Kiki.

Yes.

The two stable lads slept on bales of hay, content to have horses in their stables. To them the musky smell of horse, manure and straw equaled a feather bed.

I swept the barracks with my mind, seeking trouble. At two hours past midnight, the garrison was calm. Since I couldn’t put the entire garrison into a deep sleep, I hoped we were far enough away not to wake them. I returned to the sleeping lads and sent them into a heavy slumber.

The guards who ringed our quarters proved resistant to my mental suggestion. Their Ixian training fought my magic and I feared I would have to resort to using the Curare. Before I broke the connection, one of the guards jerked in surprise as a sharp point jabbed his neck. His vision spun as the drug entered his blood. I pulled away before the man passed out.

Leif released my hand.

“Time to go,” I said, moving fast. We had help and my heart soared. One person always knew when I needed him. I threw open the door, expecting Valek, but found Maren instead. She dragged one of the guards into the guest quarters, and was soon followed by three others who each carried in a prone form, dumping them onto the floor.

Her companions wore MD-7 uniforms.

“Guess we had the same idea. My men will pose as your guards while we head toward the castle,” she explained.

“Will they be out long?” I poked one of the men on the floor with the toe of my boot.

“A good six hours. I used Valek’s sleeping potion on them.” She smiled with a mischievous glint in her gray eyes.

“Adviser Maren, you aren’t doing a little moonlighting with Valek’s corps now, are you?” I tsked with mock concern. “How did you know when to strike?”

Maren gave me an odd look. “When the horses left the stable, I thought you might be ready to go.”

“Are you coming with us? Can you ride?”

“Yes. I have a horse nearby. I need to return to the general’s manor house before you’re discovered missing. I’ll take you to MD-6’s border and introduce you to the soldiers at the way station there. They will take you to the Commander’s castle. Your weapons are outside. Let’s go.”

Leif, Moon Man, Tauno and I carried our saddles until we were far enough away to risk the noise. Moon Man and Marrok rode on Topaz. Marrok still couldn’t speak, but he mounted when Moon Man asked him to.

Maren proved to be an adept rider and we covered the distance to MD-6 in record time. Before she alerted the way-station guards, I asked her, “What will happen when General Rasmussen finds out we escaped?”

“Once you’re with the Commander, he can’t admit to trying to delay you, because he’ll have to answer why. He’ll probably have his people keep the whole incident quiet. Valek will most likely let him believe he got away with it. Until Valek needs something from him.” Another predatory grin spread on her face.

Our transfer to MD-6 and into the hands of General Hazel’s soldiers proceeded with quick efficiency. The new guide wore a captain’s uniform with blue diamonds instead of Captain Nytik’s yellow.

In fact, the whole trip to the Commander’s castle went smoothly. Admitted into his complex without any trouble, I should have savored those few quiet hours. Because after we met with Commander Ambrose, nothing went right.

19

AFTER OUR ARRIVAL at the castle complex, we waited in the outer courtyard. We received many curious glances from the castle’s denizens, and I knew the servants would soon be gossiping and laying bets about who we were and why we had come. They probably didn’t recognize me without my food taster’s uniform on.

Grooms from the stable appeared to take the horses. I wanted to stay with Kiki, but we were instructed to enter the castle to await a meeting with the Commander.

My companions exclaimed over the odd-shaped structure. With its multiple levels of unusual geometric shapes, the castle resembled a child’s toy. Balanced on the rectangular base, the other floors of the castle were a combination of squares, triangles and even cylinders built on top of one another in a haphazard fashion. On some levels all three shapes could be found. The windows of the building also reflected the architect’s fondness for geometry, including octagons and ovals.

It had been a year since I last saw the castle. Once part of my everyday routine, I had grown used to its strange style. Now, the sight of the structure jolted me and unease fluttered through my body.

The four towers at the corners gave the viewer some sense of symmetry. They rose a few stories higher than the main building and colored glass decorated their windows. I paused. The Magician’s Keep also had four towers in the corners and I wondered about the similarity.

A servant led us to an austere waiting room with minimal comforts. Served refreshments, I automatically tested the drink for poisons, surprising Leif when I gargled the juice. He had been staring at the blank walls, probably wondering where all the legendary paintings and gilded mirrors had gone to. I assumed the Commander had destroyed all the treasures from the King’s era, but, remembering a comment Cahil had made to me about the amount of money needed to support Ixia, I wondered if Commander Ambrose had traded them for services instead.

“Did you live here?” Leif asked.

I nodded. “For two years.” One of them in the dungeon. Not many people in Sitia knew about Reyad. I preferred to keep the details of that time to myself. However, most Ixians were aware I killed Reyad.

“Where did you stay?”

“I had a room in Valek’s suite.”

Leif shot me an incredulous look. “Boy, you worked fast.”

“And you assume too much.” One day I would tell Leif and my parents about my ordeal, but not today.

Leif grew thoughtful. Tauno napped in one of the wooden chairs. I marveled at how the Sandseed could wedge himself into a small space and still look comfortable. During our time together, he had adapted to being within walls.

Moon Man, on the other hand, fidgeted in his chair. I couldn’t determine if his discomfort grew from being in a confined space or from my hostility. He claimed I had a new Story Weaver. It was an easy way for him to avoid telling me the truth.

Knowing we were headed toward Ixia, Cahil must have planned Marrok’s escape. The Sitian guards who chased them were probably part of the ruse, too.

I longed to pace the room. The wait stretched as long as a necklace snake. There was nothing to avert me from my list of worries. Valek remained near the top. Where was he? By this time, he should be back in Ixia. Thoughts circled in my mind. To distract myself, I sat in one of the hard chairs near the only window. Outside, a portion of the barracks and practice yard where the Commander’s soldiers lived and trained was visible, reminding me of Ari and Janco, my soldier friends who, according to Maren, were now Valek’s seconds in command.

I stood, desiring action. Perhaps I should just go to the Commander’s office. I knew how to get there, and I hated this unsettled sensation sloshing in the pit of my stomach. Why was I so on edge?

Understanding crashed through me and I needed to sit down again. Inside these walls I had always been a prisoner. Either by the bars of the dungeon or by the belief I had ingested a poison called Butterfly’s Dust, knowing I couldn’t get far without the daily antidote keeping me alive. And all the logic in the world couldn’t convince my body I was free.

Finally, an adviser arrived to lead us though the main corridors of the castle. Leif gasped in surprise when we entered the main hall. Greeted by the sight of the silk and gold tapestries hanging in tatters, I sympathized with my brother’s reaction. Black paint stained the once famous quilts that had symbolized each province during the King’s era. They now represented the takeover. The old provinces had been torn apart and borders redrawn into eight neat Military Districts.

Commander Ambrose’s disdain for opulence, excess and greed was evident in every part of the stone building. Stripped of the trappings of royalty, the castle had been robbed of its soul, and reassigned as a basic utilitarian structure.

The transformation of the throne room was another example of his disregard. Instead of lavish decorations and thick carpets, the room buzzed with the activity of numerous advisers and military officers from every Military District in Ixia, with no sign of a dais or throne in sight. With desks wedged in tight together, getting the five of us through the room turned into an exercise in agility as we threaded our way toward the back.

The Commander’s office matched the rest of the castle. Stark, neat and organized, the room lacked personality but reflected its occupant perfectly.

Wearing a tailored black uniform with real diamonds glittering from his collar, Commander Ambrose stood when we entered. I studied his clean-shaven face as I introduced him to my companions, detecting only a faint resemblance to Ambassador Signe. As if they were truly cousins instead of the same person.

The power of his gaze, though, remained the same. My heart flipped in my chest when he focused his gold-colored eyes on me.

“This is an unexpected visit, Liaison Yelena. I trust you have a good reason for bypassing standard protocol,” he said, raising a single slender eyebrow.

“An excellent reason, sir. I believe Sitia will try to mount an offensive against you.”

The Commander glanced at my companions as he considered my words. More gray had infiltrated his black hair, which had been cropped so short it looked as if Kiki had grazed on it.

Walking to his office’s door, the Commander called to one of his men.

“Adviser Reydon, please escort our guests to the dining hall for lunch and then to the guest suite.” He turned to the others. “The Liaison will dine with me and meet up with you later.”

Leif looked to me for guidance. I opened my mind to him.

Do you want us to stay? he asked.

I don’t think you have a choice.

He isn’t my Commander. I don’t have to listen to him.

A childish, stubborn remark. Perhaps Leif felt left out. Be a good guest and do as he says. I’ll let you know what happens.

You sure you don’t need backup? This guy creeps me out.

Leif, I warned.

He left the office with obvious reluctance, shooting me an annoyed frown before following the adviser.

When the room emptied, the Commander gestured for me to sit in the chair in front of his desk. Unnerved, I perched on the edge.

He served me a cup of tea before settling behind his desk. I sipped the drink with care, testing for poisons. In command of a powerful military and with eight ambitious generals to oversee, the Commander needed a food taster on his staff.

“Why have you come?” he asked.

“I told you. Sitia plans—”

He stopped me with a dismissive wave. “You know that’s old news. Why are you really here?”

“To ask you to delay a first strike.”

“Why?”

I paused, gathering my thoughts. Only logic would persuade the Commander. “The Sitian Council has had a dramatic change of opinion from wanting to trade and communicate with you to being terrified of you.”

“Yes. They’re very unstable.”

“But not that unstable. They’re being influenced.”

“With magic?” The Commander said the word as if it pained him.

General Brazell and Mogkan—my kidnappers—had used magic and Theobroma on him to gain control of his mind despite his ban on magicians. Though his firm censure softened, the Commander still viewed magicians as untrustworthy. Consenting to let me act as Liaison for Ixia had been his first and only concession.

Valek had theorized the Commander feared magicians, but I believed it had more to do with what the Commander referred to as his mutation. Born with a female body, he believed his soul was a man’s and he worried a magician would expose him. But from my interaction with him when he had been disguised as the female Ambassador Signe, I had sensed the presence of two souls within his body.

Standing in front of him, I suppressed the desire to project into his mind, avoiding even a surface sweep. It would be a serious breach of protocol. Besides, it felt wrong.

“Magic could be a factor, but there could be another reason or even a person influencing them. At this point I don’t know, but I want to find out. If you kill them all, you might not solve the problem and those who replace them will be worse,” I said.

“Sounds rather vague. Perhaps you have more information on this?” The Commander flourished a scroll then handed it to me.

I unrolled the parchment. Each word I read increased my concern and outrage.

“And if you notice—” he leaned over and tapped the bottom “—it’s signed by all the Councilors, but it’s lacking two Master Magicians’ signatures. Curious.”

Curious wouldn’t be the word I would use. Disastrous sounded more fitting. I worried about Irys and Bain. If the Council tried to coerce their signatures, what had happened to them by refusing? I focused on the paper in my hand. Fretting wouldn’t help Irys and Bain.

In short, the letter warned the Commander about my renegade status and suggested my treasonous companions and I be killed on sight. Probably the reason Roze had been confident I wouldn’t be safe in Ixia.

“They seek to undermine your credibility all the while planning to attack me. Do they think I’m a simpleton?” He relaxed back in his chair and sighed. “Explain to me exactly what’s going on.”

“If I knew exactly, then I wouldn’t have sounded so vague.” My turn to sigh. I wiped a hand over my face, thinking how best to tell the Commander about Cahil. Did I mention the Fire Warper or not? I had no idea what role he played in all this. Exactly the problem.

So I explained about Ferde’s escape with Cahil’s help and how Cahil had turned it all around to implicate Marrok, Leif and me.

“Sounds like assassinating the Council would be a good deed for Sitia,” the Commander said.

“That would give Cahil and his cohorts evidence they were right to suspect you. Sitia would rally behind them in support. Valek agrees with me. He hasn’t targeted the Council yet. He’s on his way here.”

If the Commander was surprised, he didn’t show it. “So you already delayed my preemptive strike. Yet you have no proof.”

“None. That’s why I wanted you to wait before launching another attack. We need more information. Valek and I—”

The office door opened. Star came into the room, carrying a tray of food. The Commander’s food taster froze in shock when she recognized me. My own pulse skipped when I saw my old uniform being worn by her. And not just any woman, but the former Captain Star, who had been the leader of a successful black market and racketeering ring before Valek uncovered her operation.

Star stared daggers at me. Her goon’s unsuccessful attempt on my life had led to her capture. Already warned about Valek’s setup, Star could have disappeared into her own underground network. Instead, she had let petty vengeance rule her and now she tasted food for the Commander.

“At least you survived the training,” I said to her.

She looked away. The long red curls of her hair had been tied into a sloppy knot, and her prominent nose led the way as she walked. Putting the tray onto the Commander’s desk, she performed a fast taste and left. Even though two lunches had been set on the tray, she tested only the one.

I eyed my food. Star seemed surprised at my presence, but that could have been an act. She could still be nursing her desire for revenge. The Commander handed me a plate. Not to appear rude, I took a tentative bite of the meat pie, chewing slowly and rolling the food around my tongue. The beef was flavored with rosemary and ginger and lacked poisons. At least, I couldn’t taste the poisons I remembered. I lost my appetite when I remembered Moon Man’s comment about learning by doing and how easy it was to forget dictated information.

We talked about minor things while eating. When I complimented his new chef on the lemon-wedge dessert, he told me Sammy now held the position.

“Rand’s fetch boy?” I asked. He was thirteen years old.

“He worked with Rand for four years and it became evident only he knew all the ingredients in Rand’s secret recipes.”

“But he’s so young.” The kitchen during meal times had been a cacophony of ordered chaos guided by Rand’s firm hand.

“I gave him a week to prove he could do it. He’s still there.”

I had forgotten age didn’t matter to the Commander. He could have forced Sammy to divulge the recipes, but he respected ability over experience or gender. My young friend, Fisk the beggar boy turned entrepreneur, would have flourished in Ixia.

When we finished lunch, the Commander moved the tray aside and repositioned his snow cat statue. Glints of silver sparked from the black stone. The single piece of decoration in the room, the cat was one of Valek’s carvings. Killing a snow cat was considered impossible. The citizens of Ixia avoided the lethal creatures living on the northern ice pack. The cat’s preternatural ability to escape death made it feared.

Commander Ambrose was the only person to successfully hunt and kill one, and in doing so, he proved to himself that despite his mutation he could infiltrate a man’s world just as he had lived among the snow cat’s world. He believed his female body had just been a disguise for his soul. Only the Commander and I knew about his hunt and dual personalities. He had sworn me to secrecy when I had rescued him from Mogkan’s mind control.

“Before Star came in with lunch you mentioned getting more information about the Sitian Council. Now that you’re a wanted criminal, how do you plan to achieve that?” the Commander asked.

“I had hoped to infiltrate the Citadel and talk to one of the Councilors. But I fear the Master Magician’s magic would discover me, so now I want to borrow Valek and a few of his men. They could assist us in contacting the Councilor.”

“Which one?”

“Bavol Cacao Zaltana, my clan’s Councilman. He has been my strongest supporter and if you see by his signature…” I picked the Sitian letter up and pointed to his name. “He didn’t include his family name, Cacao, in his signature, so it’s not an official inscription. I believe it’s a message to me that he can be approached.”

The Commander stared across the room as if considering my words. After a while, he brought his attention back to me. “You want me to risk my chief of security to help you gain information. All the while I’m to do nothing and hope the Sitians don’t attack before you discover what’s going on?”

“Yes.” Although, the way the Commander said it made the situation sound terrible. There was no sense sugarcoating it. And the last thing I wanted was to put Valek or anyone else at risk. But it had to be done.

The Commander rested his chin on his folded hands. “The information isn’t worth the risk. I could wait to see what develops with the Council and then decide how to handle it.”

“But—”

A warning flashed in his eyes. “Yelena, why would you care what happens to the Council? They have turned their backs on you. You can’t go back to Sitia. You would provide the most help here with me as my adviser.”

An unexpected offer. I considered. “What about my companions?”

“Magicians?” A small crease of distaste pinched his forehead.

“Two.”

“They could be part of your staff if you want. But they can not use their magic against any Ixians without my permission.”

“What about my magic? Would you place the same restrictions on me?”

The Commander’s gaze didn’t waver. “No. I trust you.”

I froze for a moment in shock. His trust was an honor, and, considering the recent reaction from the Sitian Council about me, the temptation to become his adviser warred with my emotions. It would probably be easier to stay and help defeat Cahil from this side of the border.

“Don’t answer right away. Talk to your companions. I should have news from Valek soon. We’ll meet again then. In the meantime, do you need anything?”

I thought about our dwindling supplies. If we left, we would need more provisions. “Could you exchange Sitian coins for Ixian?” I rummaged in my pack, placing various loose objects on his desk to get them out of my way.

“Give them to Adviser Watts. You remember my accountant?”

“Yes.” The covering on Opal’s bat had come undone and was all over the bottom of my pack. I removed the glass animal and freed it from the wrapping. The Commander gasped.

His focus was riveted on the statue in my hand; his fingers poised as if to snatch the bat.

“May I see?” he asked.

“Sure.”

With a snap of motion, he plucked the statue from my palm. He spun the bat, examining it from every possible angle. “Who made this?”

“My friend, Opal. She’s a glass artist in Sitia.”

“It glows like there is molten fire on the inside. How did she make it?”

Trying to comprehend his words, I stared. He saw the inner glow. Impossible. Only magicians could see the light.

The Commander had magical powers.

20

THE GLASS BAT GLOWED for the Commander. I had theorized only magicians could see the inner light. But I could be wrong. Maybe I hadn’t tested the bat on enough people. If the Commander had magical power, his magic would have raged uncontrolled and flamed out by now, killing him. The Masters in Sitia would have felt him long ago. Irys would have sensed it when she stood next to him.

Shaking those ridiculous thoughts out of my mind, I answered the Commander’s questions about glassmaking.

“But what causes it to glow?”

I knew if I said magic, he would drop it as if burned. Instead, I told him the internal workings were a family secret.

He passed the glass bat to me. “Extraordinary. Next time you see your friend, please ask her to make one for me.”

I found the coins I had been searching for, and repacked my bag. Only when I had slung my pack onto my shoulders did I realize I forgot to rewrap the bat.

The Commander picked up the coins, walked to his office door and opened it. Summoning Adviser Watts, he asked him to exchange my money and to show me to the guest area.

Dismissed, I followed Watts into the throne room, holding the bat in my hand. The adviser noticed the creature when handing me the Ixian coins.

“Sitian art?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Not a bad likeness, but rather dull. I thought the Sitians had more imagination than that.”

I mulled over the Commander and Adviser Watts’s comments as I followed Watts through the castle. Still unable to bend my mind around the Commander’s ability to see the glow, I had to postpone further ruminations when I entered the guest suite.

Leif peppered me with a million questions the moment I stepped through the door. The guest quarters were rather lavish by Ixian standards. The main room contained a comfortable sofa and soft chairs as well as a number of desks and tables. A faint odor of disinfectant scented the air. Four bedrooms branched off from the living area, two on each side. Sunlight streamed in through the circle of windows in the back wall, warming the empty room.

I stopped Leif’s questions with a look. “Where are the others?”

He pointed to the second door on the right. “They’re all resting. Moon Man and Marrok are in the big room next to Tauno’s.”

Double doors marked the entrance to Moon Man’s room.

“Which one is mine?”

“Second door on the left, next to me.”

I went into my room. Leif trailed along like a lost puppy. A simple layout of a bed, armoire, desk and night table all made of oak decorated the small interior. The bedding looked fresh and inviting. I stroked the soft quilt. The air smelled of pine. The lack of dust made me remember Valek’s housekeeper, Margg. She had plagued my existence when I first became the food taster, refusing to clean my room and writing nasty messages in the dust. I hoped I wouldn’t run into her during this trip.

Leif’s questions began again, and I filled him in on what had happened in the Commander’s office, neglecting to mention his ability to see the bat’s glow. I wasn’t convinced that the Commander had magic, and certainly wouldn’t try to persuade Leif or anyone else.

“Black and red really aren’t my colors. Which Military District has green? Maybe I can open my shop there,” Leif said.

Leif’s joke wasn’t as funny now. “MD-5 is green and black. General Brazell used to govern the district, but now he’s in the Commander’s dungeon.” I wonder who was promoted.

“What are we going to do next?”

“I don’t know.”

Leif pretended to be shocked. “But you’re our fearless leader. You have it all planned out. Right?”

I shrugged. “I’m going to take a long hot bath. How’s that?”

“Sounds good. Can I come?”

“As long as you promise not to spend all day in there.” I gathered some clean clothes.

“Why would I?”

“You thought the feather mattress was a luxury. Wait until you see the Commander’s baths.”

The hot water soaked my aches away.

Leif joined me in the corridor with a contented smile on his face. “I won’t have any trouble adjusting to life in Ixia. Those pools and the overhead duct, pouring water…amazing. Does every town have a similar bathhouse?”

“No. Only the Commander’s castle has such luxury. It’s a holdover from the King’s regime. The Commander usually disdains the extravagance, yet it remains.”

During my soak, I had thought long and hard about our situation and the Commander’s offer. The temptation to stay tried to overpower my logic, but I knew we needed to return to Sitia. The Sandseed clan had already been destroyed by the Vermin, and Cahil and the Fire Warper remained a problem.

How I would deal with them continued to be a mystery. Not being able to trust Moon Man, Tauno or Marrok, left Valek, Leif and me against the Daviians, the Fire Warper, Cahil and his army.

And what would happen if I revealed Cahil’s involvement with the Vermin? The Council trusted him. I would need to convince them of his deceit. I would need hard evidence to gain their trust. Evidence I lacked.

In fact, the more I thought about the whole situation, the less confident I felt about my ability to find a solution.

When Leif and I returned to the guest suite, Moon Man and Tauno waited for us in the living room.

“How’s Marrok?” I asked Moon Man.

“Better.”

“Can he talk?”

“Not yet.”

“Soon?”

“Perhaps.”

I stared at him. He answered in typical Story Weaver fashion. Refraining from shaking information out of him, I asked, “Have you learned anything while working with Marrok?”

“I have seen bits and pieces. Marrok’s feelings of betrayal are making it difficult for me to get through to him. He does not trust me.” Moon Man’s eyes met mine and I could see his unspoken words.

“Trust has to go both ways.”

“It is not a lack of trust which causes me to keep my silence. It is a lack of acceptance on your part.”

“And you’re afraid of what you might discover once you accept your role in all this, aren’t you?” Leif asked me.

A knock at the door saved me from having to reply to Leif’s question. One of the housekeeping maids handed me a message from the Commander. We were invited to dine with him in his war room.

“You don’t have an answer for me. Do you have an answer for the Commander? Are you going to stay and be his adviser?” Leif asked when the maid left.

“Actually Leif, I don’t have any answers. I’ve no idea what I’m doing or going to do.” I went into my room and shut the door.

The Commander’s war room was located in one of the four towers of the castle. With long stained-glass windows reflecting the lantern light, the circular chamber reminded me of the inside of a kaleidoscope.

Our conversation followed mundane topics while we ate spiced chicken and vegetable soup. Leif wolfed his food with obvious relish, but I took my time, sampling all the dishes with care. A few guards stood near the Commander. Star hovered close by, ready to taste the Commander’s food whenever a new course was served. Moon Man and Tauno remained quiet during dinner.

We discussed the new general in MD-5. Colonel Ute from MD-3 had been promoted and transferred. The Commander thought it best an officer from outside the district be in charge. In other words, a loyal person who had not been tainted by General Brazell’s attempt to become the new leader of Ixia.

When the subject turned to General Kitvivan’s worry over the upcoming blizzard season, I told the Commander about the Stormdance Clan and how they handled the storms from the sea.

“Magicians could harness the power of the blizzard,” I said, “saving the people in MD-1 from the killing winds. Then you could use the power for General Dinno’s sawmills in MD-8.” Dinno used the wind to fuel his mills, and calm days hurt production.

“No. The matter of magicians and magic in Ixia will not be discussed,” the Commander said.

His stern tone had once intimidated me, but not this time. “You want me to be your adviser, yet you won’t consider using magic for the good of your people. I’m a magician. How can I be an effective adviser to you?”

“You can advise me on how to counter the magicians in Sitia. I’m not interested in what magic can do for Ixia.” He made a cutting motion with his hand. End of discussion.

I wouldn’t let the subject drop. “What happens when one of your generals becomes ill or injured and I can save their life with my magic?”

“You don’t. If they die, I’ll promote another colonel.”

I considered his answer with mixed feelings. I knew his firm style of governing was inflexible. The Code of Behavior’s strict list of proper Ixian conduct left no room for debate. However, I hoped once he saw the benefits of magic to his people, he might relax his views.

As if reading my mind, the Commander said, “Magic corrupts. I’ve seen it before with the King’s magicians. They start out wanting to help and performing great deeds, but soon the power consumes them and they hunger for more despite the cost. Consider what has occurred to Moon Man’s clan. Frankly, I’m surprised something like that hasn’t happened sooner.”

“My clan will repopulate,” Moon Man said. “I have no doubt.”

“And I have no doubt if these Vermin of Sitia are conquered, it’s only a matter of time before another magician wishes to take over the current government. The talent to control another’s mind and body is intoxicating and addicting. Better to ban magic and eliminate magicians altogether.”

I wondered if the Commander’s views would change if he knew he might possess the skill to access magic. My thoughts returned to Opal’s bat and his ability to see the glow, mulling over the implications.

“Better to kill people the old-fashioned way,” Leif said, his voice indignant. “You’re saying that taking over a government with poisons, knives and swords is much better than using magic. Frankly, I see no difference.”

“Magic forces a person to do things they don’t want to. It controls their will.” The Commander leaned forward; his eyes lit with an intense passion.

Leif quailed under the Commander’s scrutiny, but he continued with his debate. “And your Code of Behavior doesn’t force people to do things they don’t want? Everyone in Ixia wants to wear uniforms? They want to obtain permission to marry or move to another district?”

“Small inconveniences to live in an area where there is no hunger and no corruption. To know exactly where your place is in society and what is expected from you. Being rewarded for your abilities and efforts instead of getting privileges because of who you were born to or what gender you are.”

“But the reward for having magical abilities is death,” Leif said. “I’m sure the families of those potential magicians don’t feel the loss of their loved one as inconvenient. Why not send them to Sitia instead?”

“Send them so they could be used against me?” The Commander’s voice reflected his incredulity. “That would be poor military strategy.”

Leif remained quiet.

“No government is perfect,” the Commander said, relaxing back into his chair. “The loss of a few personal freedoms has been embraced by most of Ixia, especially those who suffered under the King’s corruption. However, I know the younger generation is feeling restless and I will have to address that issue fairly soon.” He stared at Leif as if contemplating the future. “Yelena, I see your intelligence is a family trait. I hope you both decide to stay.”

A determined line formed along my brother’s jaw. Leif could be stubborn and perhaps he viewed changing the Commander’s mind about magicians as a challenge.

A messenger arrived and handed a scroll to the Commander. After reading the message, he stood. “Please enjoy the rest of your dinner. I have some matters to attend to.” He left, taking his guards and Star with him.

Before Star followed him, she flashed me a calculating look.

The Commander’s opinions about magic and magicians replayed in my mind as we returned to the guest suite. Although I agreed with Leif that Ixians with magical powers should not be killed, I also felt magic corrupted. Even Roze, the most powerful magician in Sitia, had been affected. To fear my potential as a Soulfinder was one thing, to support Cahil was another.

When we arrived at our quarters, I pulled Leif into my room.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I want to contact Irys. See what’s going on in the Citadel.”

“What I want to know is what’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Since crossing the border, you have changed, treating Moon Man like a traitor and not trusting anyone. If you decide to stay as the Commander’s adviser, you’ll be a traitor to Sitia. What happened to Liaison Yelena? The neutral third party?”

“To be a Liaison, I need to have support of both parties. Are you going to help me contact Irys or lecture me?”

Leif grumbled and pouted but agreed to share his energy. I lay on the bed and drew power, projecting my awareness south to the Keep. Bypassing the busy thoughts of the Citadel’s inhabitants, I searched the campus for Irys. I couldn’t find her within her tower, but I sensed a faint echo as if the scent of her soul remained behind after she had left the room. Odd.

I moved on to the Keep’s other towers, hoping Irys was visiting with another Master. Zitora’s thoughts were walled off from intruders. Bain’s tower had that same odd feeling as Irys’s, and the cold barrier of Roze’s mind slammed into me. I bounced off and retreated, but an icy wind sucked me back toward her. This time her barrier was down, and cold fingers clamped around my awareness, pulling me into her mind.

Searching for someone? Roze asked.

I refused to answer.

You make it so easy, Yelena. Roze laughed. I knew you would contact Irys. You won’t be able to talk to her, I’m afraid. The Council decided Masters Irys and Bain were engaged in treasonous activities. They’re currently in the Keep’s cells.

21

HOW DID YOU MANAGEto frame two Master Magicians, Roze? I said, suppressing my shock and outrage.

They refused to sign the letter to the Commander, and they have been stalwart defenders of you and your brother. She said the word brother with heated contempt. They doubted Cahil’s word. Cahil, who single-handedly increased the strength of our army with Daviian Warriors.

Those Warriors are not there to help you. They’re there to use you.

I’m not going to take advice from you. Roze tightened her grip on my consciousness. A simpleton who’s about to lose her mind.

She peeled the layers of my consciousness away with a knife made of ice. Cold stabbed deep into the core of my thoughts, attempting to expose what I kept hidden.

Thinking of becoming an adviser to the Commander, what a laugh. After I’m done with you, you won’t be able to advise a baby on how to suck its thumb.

Unable to pull away, I panicked. Leif’s energy poured into me, but I still couldn’t break free. Flayed by her arctic magic, I remained helpless.

Valek was in Sitia to assassinate the Council. Hmm…most interesting, she said.

Desperate and knowing I couldn’t sever her hold, I reached closer to her, searching for a part of her I could control. Her soul. I tugged at the ghostlike force, smelling its rotten stench, and feeling it fray as if her soul was splitting into multiple personalities.

Roze jolted in horror and expelled me from her grip. As I escaped, her words reached me.

Try to rescue Irys and Bain. Come to the Citadel. We’re ready for you. Roze yanked a defensive wall between us, breaking our link.

I returned to my body, feeling exhausted and weak.

Leif loomed over me. “What happened? I lost you.”

“I got caught by Roze…” My thoughts returned to what she had said about Irys and Bain.

“And?”

“And, I broke free before she could dissect all my thoughts.”

“What did she find out?”

I told him she knew about the Commander’s offer and about Valek being in Sitia.

He creased his thick eyebrows as he considered. “Knowing about Valek could be a good thing. The Council can take measures to protect themselves in case Valek comes back.”

“If Roze warns them. Their deaths may be exactly what she wants.”

“No. Roze wants what is best for Sitia. She’s a strong-willed person and many Councilors are swayed by her arguments, but I don’t believe she would use murder or magic to get her way.”

I shook my head. After the attack, I knew she would resort to both to get what she wants. “You were her student. Of course you still hold charitable thoughts for her.”

“I know her better than you.” Leif’s voice huffed with anger. “I’ve worked for her and with her for nine years. Her methods can be harsh, but her concern is always for Sitia. She has always supported Cahil’s desire to become King of Ixia. In her mind, your Soulfinder abilities are a threat to Sitia. And I’m starting to agree with her.” Leif stormed from the room.

I wondered what had really upset Leif. In my opinion, Roze was a murderer. She didn’t kill the body, but she destroyed minds without any remorse. Look at Marrok. But then again I had done the same thing with Ferde. At least, I admitted to being a killer. Was I any better? No.

My mind sorted through all the information from Roze. Rescuing Irys and Bain became a priority. I needed eyes and ears inside the Citadel’s walls, and a way to get messages inside the Keep. All without being seen or without risking anyone else. Magic was no longer an option. If I projected my awareness near the Keep, Roze would catch me again. Mundane methods remained my only recourse.

A plan formed, making my heart buzz with the possibilities. If I hadn’t been so drained of energy, I would have started preparations that night. Instead, I mapped out the steps I needed to take to return to Sitia.

I hovered at the entrance to Dilana’s workroom. The Commander’s seamstress sat in a pool of early-morning sunlight, humming to herself as her deft fingers repaired a pair of pants. Her soft curls glowed like fresh honey. I hesitated, not wanting to disturb her.

My need for information, though, spurred me into the room. She glanced up in surprise and my heart stopped. I braced myself for her reaction, guessing hate and anger ranked at the top of her list.

“Yelena!” She jumped to her feet. “I heard you were back.” She pulled me into a warm hug then released me for inspection. “You’re still too thin. And what’s this you’re wearing? The material is far too light for Ixia’s weather. Let me get you some proper clothes and something to eat. I have a fresh loaf of cinnamon bread.” She moved away.

“Dilana, wait.” I grabbed her arm. “I ate breakfast and I’m not cold. Sit down. I want to talk to you.”

Her baby doll’s beauty hadn’t dimmed with time or grief, but I could see a touch of sadness in her eyes despite her smile.

“It’s so good to see you again.” She rubbed a hand along my arm. “Look at how tan your skin is! Tell me what you’ve been doing in Sitia besides sunning yourself.”

I laughed at the fantasy of me lounging in the sun, but sobered. She wanted to avoid the subject. Avoid the reason I thought she might hate me. But I couldn’t go on without saying anything. “Dilana, I’m sorry about Rand.”

She waved the comment away. “No need. The big oaf got himself mixed up with Star and her nefarious deeds. Not your fault.”

“But he wasn’t her target. I was and—”

“He saved you. The dumb ox died a hero.” She blinked back tears threatening to spill over her long eyelashes. “It’s a good thing we didn’t get married or I’d be a widow. No one wants to be a widow at twenty-five.” She took a deep breath. “Let me get you a slice of bread.”

Dilana left before I could stop her. When she returned with a plate, she had regained her composure. I asked her about the latest gossip.

“Can you believe Ari and Janco are working with Valek? They were in here last month trying on their new uniforms and preening in front of the mirrors.”

“Do you know where they are?” I asked.

“Some mission with Valek. I had to make a sneak suit for each of them. I used up all my black fabric to cover Ari’s muscles. Can you imagine that big lunk sneaking around?”

I couldn’t. Ari didn’t strike me as the assassin type. He was more of a one-on-one fighter. Same with Janco. He wouldn’t feel right killing someone without a fair fight. So why were they with Valek?

Dilana continued to chat. When the subject returned to uniforms, I asked her about getting an adviser’s uniform. “The Commander has asked me to stay and I feel like I stand out in these Sitian clothes.” Not an outright lie, yet a pang of guilt twinged in my chest.

“Even though coral is a beautiful color on you, you’ll be warmer in a uniform.” Dilana bustled over to her piles of clothes. She picked out a black shirt and pants. Handing them to me, she shooed me behind the changing screen. “Try them on.”

I fingered the two red diamonds stitched on the shirt’s collar. The last time I had stood here, I had been exchanging my red prison gown for the food taster’s uniform. When I pulled my shirt off, I saw my snake bracelet. Round and round, it hugged my arm. I suppressed the sudden laughter bubbling in my throat. I’ve come full circle, but this time I put on an adviser’s uniform. It fit better than my food taster uniform, molding to my body like a second skin. The Commander wanted me to help him, while the Council wanted me dead. About a year ago, the opposite had been true. This time I allowed the hollow snort of laughter to escape my lips.

“Something wrong?” Dilana asked.

I stepped out. “The pants are a little big.”

She grabbed the waistband and pinched the material together, marking it with chalk. “I’ll have these fixed by lunch.”

I changed, thanked her and headed out to visit Kiki and the horses. The Commander’s stables were located next to the kennels. The animals shared a training ring and there was a pasture for the horses along the castle’s walls.

Kiki dozed in her immaculate stall. I checked on the other horses. Their coats gleamed in the sunlight. They seemed content and well cared for. I complimented the stable boys and girls, who nodded and resumed their work. Their demeanor reminded me of adults and I wondered if they had any fun.

On my way back to the castle, I spotted Porter, the Commander’s Kennel Master. His dogs never wore leashes and their obedience to him was uncanny. I paused and watched him work with a litter of puppies. He had hidden treats in the training yard and taught the pups how to find them. Being puppies, they frequently forgot what they were supposed to do, but once Porter caught the attention of a dog, he touched its nose and said, “Go find.”

Energized with its mission, the puppy scented the air and made a beeline for a treat. Impressive. Porter noticed me watching and gave me a curt nod. He had been good friends with Rand, and I recalled a conversation I had had with Rand about Porter.

Rand hadn’t believed the rumors about Porter’s magical connection with the dogs. Since there was no proof, Rand stayed true to their friendship when everyone else avoided contact with the Kennel Master. As long as Porter continued to be useful and did not draw attention to himself, his job for the Commander was secure.

I wondered about the magic, though. If he had magic and could use it without getting caught, then there might be others in Ixia doing the same thing. Porter had worked for the King many years before the Commander’s takeover, giving him plenty of time to learn how to use and hide his power. Perhaps communicating with the dogs was all he could do.

One way to find out. I pulled a thread of power and made a mental connection with one of the puppies. Her energy and enthusiasm jumped from one smell to another. When I tried to communicate with her, she either ignored me or didn’t hear me. Her nose filled with the scent of soft laced with a sharp hint of squish, and she dug into the ground seeking a worm. When a voice of warmth and caring called, she left her task and ran toward Porter.

He gave all the puppies a rawhide stick to chew and filled the row of bowls with water. I moved my awareness to him, sensing his surface thoughts. They were focused on the tasks for the day, yet uneasiness lingered. Why was she here? What does she want?

To help Ixia, I said in his mind.

He jerked as if bitten in the leg and glared at me.

You hear me, don’t you? The rumors are true.

He strode toward me. I checked the empty yard. Although I knew how to defend myself, his tall muscular frame reminded me that, despite the gray hair, Porter remained a formidable opponent. He stopped mere inches from me.

“You’re here to help Ixia?” Porter growled. If he had hackles they would have been raised. “You can help by leaving us alone.”

He didn’t mean him and the dogs. I caught a brief image of other Ixians.

“There must be something I can do?”

“Like you did for Rand? No, thank you. All you’ll do is get us killed.” He turned away, but his words, or enslaved, reached me.

A cold splash of fear drenched me. Was there someone in Ixia using magicians against their will? Why was I surprised? Magic and corruption went hand in hand. Would it corrupt me as well? I’d been using my magic without stopping to think about the consequences. Connecting with Porter could get him killed, and I did it just to satisfy my own curiosity. If I was so blasé about using magic now, how would I view it in the future? Would I crave it like an addiction? I began to think it would be better not to use magic at all.

Before I could return to the castle, I heard Kiki’s whinny. I hurried back to the stables, but Kiki had already opened the door and met me in the walkway.

Foot hurt, she said.

She followed me to the training yard and bent her front right hoof back for me to inspect the underside. A rock was lodged in her frog.

When did this happen?

Night. Didn’t hurt then.

Out in the sunlight, she didn’t appear to be as well groomed as I had thought.

She snorted. Lavender Lady take care.

You wouldn’t stand for the stable boy?

Too rough. Wait for you.

You’re spoiled rotten.

I left Kiki in the yard, and fetched my pick and brushes.

She lifted her leg and I dislodged the stone then pulled the shedding blade through her copper hair. After a while, I removed my cloak. When I finished, clumps of horse hair clung to my sweaty clothes.

You’re beautiful and I need a bath, I said to her. Pasture or stall?

Stall. Nap time.

And what about your snooze before I groomed you?

Pre-nap.

Ah, the life of a horse. I made sure her bucket held fresh water. On my way out, I bumped into Porter.

“You’re good with that horse,” he said.

I waited, sensing he had more to say.

“Maybe you can help us.” He scanned the area. A few lads worked nearby. He lowered his voice. “There’s a meeting tonight in Castletown. Forty-three Peach Lane rear door. Come during dinner. Don’t let anyone know where you’re going.”

22

HE STRODE AWAY. TONIGHT I had planned to be on my way to Sitia. A visit to Porter would delay me, but it seemed too important to ignore.

After my jaunt to the stables, I arrived back at the doors of the guest suite at the same time as a messenger. The Commander wanted us to meet him in the war room this afternoon. Inside, Tauno paced the living area like a trapped animal, prowling next to the windows.

“Why don’t you go outside?” I suggested to him. “The soldiers run laps around the castle complex for exercise. You can join them if you want.”

He stopped in surprise. “I can leave this room without being escorted by an adviser?”

“The advisers are a courtesy provided by the Commander to help you find your way around the castle. If you go out on your own, you’ll get some suspicious looks, but as long as you stick to common areas, no one will bother you. Just make sure you’re back for the meeting.” I told them about the message.

Moon Man sat next to Marrok on the couch. Marrok stared at us with an intense expression as if he tried to decipher our conversation.

“Interesting how you see the advisers as a courtesy, while Tauno sees them as guards,” Moon Man said.

I ignored the Story Weaver’s comment and gave Tauno directions to find his way outside. Even with my assurances, he still pulled the door open as if he expected to be accosted.

“Has Marrok said anything yet?” I asked.

“No, but he is understanding more and more. Unlike you.”

I scowled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Moon Man refused to answer. My plan to leave my companions in Ixia so I could travel faster through Sitia became more appealing as time went on. The Commander would keep an eye on them and I wouldn’t have to worry about being betrayed.

I looked around the room. “Where’s Leif?”

“In his room,” Moon Man said.

Judging by the monosyllable response through Leif’s door, I guessed he was still upset with me. I told him about the meeting then retired to my room.

A quiet group followed me to the Commander’s war room. Tauno had returned, seeming more settled since he had burned off some of his energy. Moon Man’s calm demeanor returned, and Leif frowned at the world at large and me in particular. My brother knew how to pout.

The Commander had a surprise waiting for us. Valek, Ari and Janco sat around the circular table. My emotions flipped to joy at seeing them.

“Valek was just informing me on the state of affairs in Sitia,” the Commander said. “Continue.”

“I found the situation to be rather ah…unique.” Valek leaned back in his chair. He scanned my companions with a thoughtful purse of his lips. The sharp features of his angular face would soften only when he smiled.

“Unique is putting it mildly,” Janco said. He rubbed the scar where the bottom half of his right ear used to be. A sure sign of his worry.

“Try alarming,” Ari added.

Panic began to simmer under my heart. Ari tended to counter Janco’s exaggerations with cool logic. His steadying presence helped keep Janco in check. Opposite in appearance, Janco’s wiry build reflected his quick wit and lightning-fast fighting style, while Ari’s strength could outmuscle most others.

“Alarming would work,” Valek agreed. “Taking out the Council wouldn’t result in better leaders. In fact, it would have inflamed the citizens to all-out war. And they have some new players who could potentially tip the battle in their favor.”

“Players? Try creepy men. Scary magicians. Evil demons.” Janco shuddered.

Valek shot Janco a warning look. “I need to obtain more information before I can assess the true nature of the threat and determine the best way to counter it.”

“Why have you returned?” the Commander asked.

Another glance from Valek, but this time he aimed it at me. “I require more help. Things were getting a little too hot even for me.”

So much for my plans to travel to Sitia alone.

The room fell quiet as Commander Ambrose considered. “What do you need?”

“A few more men, Yelena and her brother.”

I had suspected Valek would want me. By Leif’s grunt of shock, I knew his surprise matched my own when hearing his name.

“She hasn’t agreed to be an adviser yet so I can’t order her to assist you,” the Commander said.

“Then I will have to ask.” Valek looked at us.

“Yes,” I said the same time Leif said no.

“I’m a Sitian, remember? I can’t aid Ixia in overthrowing Sitia,” Leif said.

“I don’t want to take control of Sitia,” the Commander said. “I just don’t want them to invade us and I will take preventative measures to stop them.”

“By helping us, you will also help your country,” Valek said.

“We can do it on our own. We don’t need you or Yelena.” Leif turned to me. “You could never have been a true Liaison, little sister. Ever since we’ve been in Ixia, you have revealed your true loyalties.”

Outraged, I asked, “Is that what you believe?”

“Look at the evidence. At the first sign of trouble, you run for Ixia. We could have returned to the Citadel, and explained everything to the Council.”

His accusations stabbed me as if he held a knife.

“The Council will not believe us. I told you what Irys said.”

“But what if you lied? You know I don’t have the power of mental communication on my own. You don’t trust us so why should we trust you?”

First the Council had turned on me and now my brother. “Believe what you want, then. Valek, can we do without him?”

“We can.”

The Commander stared at Valek. “You will tell me your plans before you disappear again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. You’re all dismissed.” The Commander stood.

“What about us?” Leif gestured to Moon Man and Tauno. “Can we return to Sitia?”

“Consider yourselves a guest of Ixia until this unfortunate incident is resolved,” Valek said.

“What if we no longer wish to be guests?” Moon Man asked.

“Then you will be our first prisoners of war and your accommodations will not be so luxurious. It’s your choice.” The Commander left.

Leif glared at me and I wanted to laugh. His current reaction mirrored the first encounter I had had with him after fourteen years of being apart. Another full circle. I felt dizzy. Perhaps this was a sign I should stay in this spot to avoid having to exert time and effort to go around again.

Valek turned to Ari and made a slight movement with his hand.

Ari nodded and stood; his blond curls bounced with the motion. “We will be happy to escort you to your quarters.”

A gamut of emotions flowed over my former companions’ faces as they followed Ari from the room. Leif barely contained his fury, Tauno looked worried and Moon Man appeared thoughtful.

Janco brought up the rear of the procession. He flashed me an inviting smirk. “Training yard, four o’clock.”

“You need more lessons?”

“You wish.”

My smile faded when the door closed. Valek remained on the far side of the table, his face serious. I felt awkward and uncertain.

“Is it that bad?” I asked.

“It’s a situation I’ve never encountered before. I’m worried.”

“About Ixia?”

“About you, love.”

“Me?”

“I’ve always been amazed at how you can draw unwanted attention and ire from powerful people. This time, though, you managed to get a whole country upset. If I was the Commander, I would wait out the political strife in Sitia and then offer you to the victors in trade for Ixia being left alone.”

“Good thing you’re not the Commander.”

“Yes. And we should leave Ixia before the Commander figures it out. What were you planning?”

I tried to look innocent. “Me? You’re the one with the plan.”

“And the adviser uniform you had Dilana size for you? You weren’t thinking of sneaking off to Sitia without me, were you?”

Another betrayal. “Did she tell you?”

“I had ripped a hole in my favorite pants. When I dropped them off, she asked me to deliver your uniform and gifted me with a leer. I would guess the servants were already betting how soon one of them would spot us together.” He sighed. “If only intelligence information worked through my corps as efficiently as gossip flowed through the servants, then my problems would be minimal.”

In one fluid motion, Valek stood. He walked over to me, his smooth stride graceful as a panther. Powerful energy coiled in his body. He leaned on my chair’s arms, bringing his face inches from mine. His black hair hung to his shoulders; his expression was lethal. “I’ll ask you again. Your plans include me, correct?”

I slumped deeper into my chair.

“Yelena?” His voice warned.

“You said you had never encountered this situation before. It’s an unknown. I don’t want to risk…”

“What?”

“Risk losing you. With your immunity I can’t heal you!”

“I’m willing to take the chance.”

“But I’m not willing to let you.”

“Sorry, love, that’s not your decision. It’s mine.”

I grumbled. Events had spiraled out of my control. Again. I just spun in circles and never gained any ground.

“Okay, I promise not to go to Sitia without you.” Which didn’t include my meeting tonight with Porter.

“Thank you.” Valek brushed his lips on my cheek. A tingle sizzled up my spine.

“What about your plan?” I tried to stay on topic, but I lost my motivation once Valek’s musky smell enveloped me.

“This is my plan.”

He moved closer and kissed me. Warmth spread throughout my body. The panic clutching my throat eased. I pushed away my worries and focused on Valek, wrapping my arms around him. But the feel of his muscles through his shirt wasn’t enough. I yanked at it, wanting to touch his skin, wanting to wear his skin.

He pulled away, straightening. “In the war room, love? What if someone comes in?”

I stood and removed his shirt. “Then they’ll have a good story to tell.”

“Good?” He adopted the pretense of being offended.

“Prove me wrong.”

His eyes lit with the challenge.

Valek and I ended up underneath the war room’s round table. Lying together, I felt safe for the first time in weeks. We discussed the events in Sitia.

“I could hardly move within the Citadel,” Valek said. “The air was so thick with magic I felt like I swam in syrup.”

“But you weren’t detected.”

Valek’s immunity to magic remained a powerful weapon. Without it, I couldn’t have defeated Ferde.

“No. Although it was only a matter of time. With that many—what do you call them?—Warpers, my presence would have eventually caused a noticeable dead zone.”

I considered how fast things had changed in the Citadel. Twenty-two days ago Moon Man had speculated the Daviians had eight Warpers, but once he realized they were performing Kirakawa we knew the actual number of Warpers could be much higher, depending on how many victims they had used. And how far along in the ritual they were. Plus only a victim with magical powers could make a Warper.

If they had been preparing for this offensive for a while, then who were the victims? They wouldn’t have used clan members and the Sandseed Clan would have noticed if a couple of their Story Weavers went missing. So would the other clans. Unable to deduce an answer, I put the question to Valek.

“They’re probably targeting the homeless. Who would miss a few beggars in a big city? No one.”

“What about the need for magicians?”

“The first year after a magician reaches adolescence is a difficult and vulnerable year. Half the people don’t even realize they can access the power source, and the other half don’t have a clue how to use it. The Warpers could be hunting the streets, looking for someone in that precarious situation.”

My conviction to stop using it became stronger the more I learned about magic and how others exploited it.

Valek and I mapped our return to Sitia and planned how to contact Bavol Zaltana.

“I’ll leave Ari and Janco here. They won’t be happy, but security around the Citadel is too tight and we’re better off just going ourselves. Two of my corps have already been caught inside.” Valek sat up with reluctance. “I have some business to attend to. I’ll meet you in my suite later tonight and we can finalize our time schedule. I’ll have your belongings delivered there.”

I should retrieve my pack, but realized I had no desire to see Leif or the others. But I remembered something. “Why did you want Leif to come with us?”

He shook his head. “You wouldn’t have agreed anyway.”

“To what?”

“To letting Leif get caught and using your mental connection to him to find out what’s going on in the Keep. But now you’re mad at him—”

“No. He would be killed. I’m not that angry with him.” Besides, if I used my magic anywhere near the Citadel, all the preparation in the world wouldn’t be able to help me.

“She’s quick and fast, but she can’t get past,” Janco sang as he blocked my rib strikes.

“You need to work on your rhymes. Either that, or I’m getting better.” I faked a temple strike and swept his feet out from under him. Before I could press my advantage, he rolled away and regained his feet.

“You hesitated,” Ari said from the sidelines. “Too busy talking.”

I renewed my attack and Janco countered with ease. We fought in the soldier’s training yard, which had been filled with the sounds of practice until Janco and I started this match. We had attracted quite a crowd.

“Can’t talk and fight. So much for being polite.” Janco spun his bow. His weapon blurred.

I backed up and blocked the flurry of hits, keeping pace with his attack until he changed the rhythm. I missed a connection. The air exploded out of my lungs as Janco landed a solid blow to my solar plexus. I bent over, coughing and gasping for breath.

“Funny,” Janco said. He smoothed his goatee with a hand. “You’re usually not this easy to beat. Have I succeeded in hiding my thoughts?”

Once I regained my composure and straightened, he smiled sweetly at me. The last time we had fought in Sitia, he had found out about my zone of concentration, a semimagical state allowing me to notice my opponent’s intentions when I sparred with them. This time I had tried to fight him without setting my mind into that zone.

“No. You’re still self-centered and overly cocky,” I said.

“They’re fighting words.”

“Do you need more time to rest? Now you’re management, you probably need to expend extra energy moving that paunch.”

He swept his bow toward my legs in response and we engaged in another match. I lost again, but kept challenging him until we were both sweat soaked and exhausted.

“Your fighting improved as the matches went on,” Ari said. “But it wasn’t your best.” He looked at me as if waiting for an explanation.

I shrugged. “I was trying something different.”

“It’s not working. Better go back to your old style.”

“I like her new style.” Janco piped in. “It’s good for my ego.”

Ari frowned and crossed his massive arms over his chest.

“Life or death, Ari, and I’d go back to using all my tricks. Don’t worry.”

He seemed mollified, and I hadn’t lied. When push came to shove, I knew I would fall back on using my magic. Another problem. Magic made me lazy and when I encountered a bad situation, I reached for it without thought. I needed to improve my other skills, because magic wouldn’t help me against the Fire Warper.

I changed the subject and asked my friends about their new jobs. Janco regaled me with the story of their battle against Valek. Every time Ari shook his head, I knew Janco had exaggerated a detail.

“What is it like being second in command of Ixia’s intelligence network?” I asked.

“I don’t like all this sneaking around,” Ari said. “There’s a lot more going on in Ixia than I thought. And there’s so much to do. Valek is the king of delegating.”

“I’m getting to use my lock-picking skills.” Janco grinned. Pure mischievousness danced in his eyes. “And the information we’ve discovered. Did you know General Dinno has—”

“Janco,” Ari warned. “We enjoy the work. It’s just not what we had expected.”

“Nothing is,” I said.

My bones ached with fatigue. I waved goodbye to Ari and Janco and headed toward the baths. Before joining my friends in the training yard, I had retrieved my pack and stashed it in the changing room. After a long soak, I dried and dressed in my adviser’s uniform in preparation for the meeting with Porter. I rationalized I would draw less attention wearing a uniform than my Sitian clothes.

I cut a hole in the pant’s pocket and strapped my switchblade to my right thigh. Not wanting to show up armed with my bow, I felt it prudent to have a knife on me just in case. Braiding my hair into one long braid, I let it hang between my shoulder blades.

Although my stomach grumbled with hunger, Porter had instructed me to come during dinner. His timing made sense, as most of the castle’s inhabitants would be busy either serving dinner or eating it. And Castletown should be relatively quiet.

I stopped beside the pasture on my way out, checking to see if anyone followed me. A few servants hustled between buildings, but no one paid me any attention. The cold hung in the air as if waiting for a breeze. I fed Kiki and the other horses some apples.

Smells? I asked Kiki.

Big snow.

When?

Half moon.

Three days. Valek and I would need to leave sooner than planned.

Kiki come?

Of course, and Garnet, too.

She sighed with contentment as I scratched behind her ears. When I felt certain no one watched me, I headed toward the south gate. I joined in with a group of town residents returning home for dinner. With my Ixian wool cloak covering my adviser’s uniform, I blended right in. My group hurried over the grass field surrounding the walls. The Commander had ordered all buildings within a quarter mile of the castle be destroyed when he had gained power. He also renamed Jewels-town, named in honor of the former Queen Jewel to the rather unoriginal Castletown.

Once we reached the edge of town, the group dispersed as the others headed for their homes. The symmetry of the town with its neat rows of wooden buildings conflicted with the asymmetrical style of the castle complex. The logical array of businesses interspersed among residences made navigating the town easier. Each district had a name matching the merchandise sold there. Peach Alley would be located in the Garden District.

A few townspeople bustled about, all intent on some errand. I walked as if I had a purpose so I didn’t attract unwanted attention from the town’s guards, who watched the streets.

The colors of the buildings thinned toward gray as the sun set. My perceptions shifted, and I felt as if I had entered into a colorless shadow world. The buildings transformed into a watery representation of a town populated with ghosts.

I stumbled over some unseen curb and snapped back to the real world. Dismissing the strange spell, I rationalized hunger as the culprit. I picked up my pace, determined to find the right address before the lamplighters came out. Peach Lane seemed devoid of life, and only when I went around to the back alley did I see signs of habitation.

A glow of firelight came from number forty-three. Keeping to the shadows, I approached the back door. I pulled a thread of magic and scanned the area. Inside the house I felt Porter waiting with two young girls. They were nervous about being found, but I didn’t sense any duplicity.

I paused as the realization of how much I depended on my magic dawned on me. Not only with searching for attackers, but with Kiki, too. Could I completely stop using my magic? It would be much harder than I thought.

The door opened right after my light tap, as if Porter had been hovering near it. He pulled me into the room and closed it behind me.

“Did anyone see you?” he asked.

“No.” I looked around the room. Small and tidy, the sitting area had a couch, a chair and three dogs getting nervous attention from the girls. The girls perched on the edge of the couch with their backs straight. They wore students’ uniforms, which consisted of a simple jumper made of red linen. White-faced, their gazes jumped between Porter and me.

“You said I could help you?” I asked.

“We’re taking a big chance trusting you.” Porter picked up a half-chewed roll of rawhide from the floor. He clutched the dog’s treat in his hands as he stared at me. “You must promise not to tell Valek or anyone else about all this.”

“I can’t promise until I hear what ‘all this’ is.”

The rawhide popped and cracked in Porter’s hands. He glanced at the girls and sighed. His wide shoulders drooped with the release of his tension, and he gestured to the empty chair. “Have a seat. This is going to take a while.”

As soon as I sat down, one of the dogs came over and put his head in my lap. Peering at me from between his gray shaggy hairs, he pleaded for attention. I stroked his smooth head and scratched behind his ears. The dog’s tail thumped on the floor. The smell of wet dog and wood smoke mixed into a stuffy odor.

Porter tapped the roll on his leg as he talked. “I’ve set up a network of people throughout Ixia to help me in smuggling children out of the country.”

I leaned forward in alarm, thinking about Mogkan’s kidnapping ring and how he had taken children from Sitia to Ixia to abuse them for his own purposes. “Children?”

“They seem like children to me.” Porter gave the two girls a grandfatherly smile. “Adolescents who have just discovered their magical powers.” He pointed to the couch. “Young people like Liv and Kieran. I’ve been helping them to escape to Sitia before their powers are known to others. But I believe something has gone wrong.”

“What?” I prompted when Porter appeared to be lost in his own thoughts.

“I was in MD-7 last month. General Rasmussen has a nice wolfhound I wanted to breed with my bitch. While there, one of my contacts who works in the general’s stables told me the last person I sent through the network never arrived. And two others he had sent on never made it to the border contact. They have all disappeared.”

My stomach twisted around my heart. “Do you think Valek has killed them?”

“I don’t know and I can’t risk asking around. If my network has been compromised then I won’t be able to send Liv and Kieran. Eventually they’ll get reported.”

I hadn’t thought it possible, but the girls’ faces turned whiter. Considering Porter’s story, I said, “Tell me how your network operates.”

“I have four contacts from here to the border. A few people know about my underground efforts and they’ll send their son or daughter to me as an apprentice. The Commander gives me complete management of his kennel and no one pays too much attention to my students. They come and go as part of their animal husbandry training. It’s risky, being this close to Valek, but then I usually know where he is and can send my charges when he’s gone on business.” Porter paced. “It’s too risky to have a guide with them, so I instruct the person how to find the first contact and then he sends them on until they get to the border contact, who takes them into Sitia. They have transfer papers with them if they’re stopped by the guards. If they had gotten caught, I would have been arrested by now.” His erratic movements showed his frustration.

“How can I help?”

He stopped. “I wanted you to go along with Liv, and maybe find out what’s happening to my charges. With that adviser’s uniform you can go anywhere in Ixia without permission.”

“No. Too dangerous for Liv. The best thing to do would be for me to disguise myself as a student and go through your network alone.”

Porter’s eyebrows spiked up in surprise. “You would do that for us?”

“Yes. Unfortunately though, it will have to wait.”

The ability to connect with the power source began at the onset of puberty. A person typically had a year before anyone else noticed and reported them, and another three to four years to learn how to harness their power. A fledgling magician’s power, when uncontrolled, could flame out and warp the blanket of power that covers the world, causing trouble for magicians everywhere. And the stronger the magician, the bigger the flameout. One-trick power similar to Opal’s ability to capture magic in molten glass tended to be unconscious and didn’t require formal training.

“How long do the girls have?” I asked.

“A year at most for Liv. Kieran is younger so she could last up to two years, but I’d rather they both be gone as soon as possible. I can hide them here if we’re desperate. I’ve had some refugees who didn’t have time to work in the kennel,” Porter said.

“Give me a couple months. Sitia’s not the best place to be sending anyone right now. Once I settle another matter, I’ll come back and help you. For now, I can teach the girls how to tame their powers enough so they don’t give themselves away.”

Relief shone on Liv and Kieran’s young faces. I worked with them for the next hour. Irys would be proud over how much I remembered from her guidance. A finger of dread stabbed my guts with the thought of Irys. I hoped she was still alive.

After my session, the girls left Porter’s together while I waited for them to be well away before I left. The need to begin my journey back to Sitia pressed on my mind as I worried about Irys and Bain locked in the Keep’s cells.

I made a quick sweep of the area outside Porter’s door with my magic. The activity around the houses seemed muted as everyone finished their daily tasks. No one lurked in the alley.

With a wave goodbye, I exited Porter’s. I stood outside and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. When the shadows grew less black, I strode toward the street.

About halfway there I felt a presence behind me. I spun, grabbing for my switchblade. Something jabbed me in the neck and I saw Star lower a thin pipe.

I yanked the dart out of my throat. “How?”

“Some great magician you are,” Star said. “Missing my own tiny talent.”

My world spun and I stumbled. Star caught me, but I had no energy to fight her off. “What?”

She cradled me in her arms. “Valek’s goo-goo juice. Relax, Yelena. Star’s going to take good care of you.”

My last coherent thought focused on how her sinister expression didn’t match her soothing words.

23

THE WORLD STIRRED. MY thoughts scattered and failed to connect. Warm hands guided me. Whenever the hands pulled away, the ground swelled and I tumbled off my feet.

I thought about the lack of fear for only a moment before the air spun around my head. Lying down felt best. I sensed movement and smelled horses.

Inside my chicken crate, I wondered what I was supposed to be doing. Important things? My mind chased the thought until the sunlight lit the dust motes. I studied the flecks floating above me. The flecks transformed into daggers. I wanted to knock them away. My hands stayed glued to my back. A leather strap lodged in my teeth. The problem disappeared with the sun.

Time ebbed and flowed. My crate opened. It closed. Faces peered. Mouths talked. Words chimed in my ears. Some like eat, drink and sleep I understood. Others resembled a baby’s babble. Goo-goo. Goo-goo. A prick on my arm or neck or back. The air filled with colors. My crate bobbed on an invisible sea.

A small lucid part of me wanted action. Freedom. Majority ruled and I let the world slide by me content in my crate. My crate. My crate. I giggled.

The fire woke me. A finger of flame poked. I jerked away, no longer inside my crate. My thoughts congealed into a coherent whole. The air became invisible, revealing my surroundings. I braced for another prick. When none came I focused. The booted feet of a couple guards stood near me. I lay on my side in front of a campfire. Darkness pressed against the firelight, and my hands were tied behind my back.

Actual conversation reached my ears. The baby babble was gone. But for how long? I coaxed my mind to think, but my thoughts remained sluggish.

A man’s voice. “Should not do this,” he said. “She should stay under until we reach our destination. Jal is the only one strong enough to counter her power.”

A familiar voice said, “I made a promise to her. I want her to know who has her, and what we plan to do to her.”

Footsteps approached and I tried to put a name to the familiar voice. My mind churned as if mired in river mud.

“Take the gag off,” Familiar Voice said from behind me.

One of the guards removed the leather strap. A mixture of pain and relief flowed into my cracked lips. I licked them, tasting blood. Other aches and cramps woke. Only the sight of a pair of black riding boots covered with dust could distract me from my medley of aches.

My gaze followed the boots up to jodhpurs that disappeared under a gray riding cloak. I squinted in the firelight, hoping the person in front of me was an illusion.

The cocky smirk caused my heart to stutter. And when he kicked me in the ribs, I knew all hopes for a pleasant reunion were gone. I coughed and wheezed as the pain shot through my body.

“That’s for hitting me with Curare!” He kicked me again. “And that’s just because I can.”

His words sounded thin and distant, reaching me through my efforts to reclaim my breath. He loomed over me. When the sharp pain dulled to a loud throb, I struggled to a sitting position. I glanced around. Four guards stood a few feet away and I counted three Daviian Vermin nearby, but I couldn’t tell if they were Warpers or not.

“Cahil,” I said between gasps. “You’re still…scared. Of me.”

He laughed. The washed-out blue of his eyes sparked with amusement.

“Yelena, you’re the one who should be scared.” He crouched down.

We were face-to-face. He held a dart between us. A drop of clear liquid hung from the end. Fear coiled in my stomach as I smelled the sweet odor. Curare. I tried not to let my terror show on my face.

“I allowed you this brief moment of lucidity. Listen closely. Remember what I said to you the last time we were together?”

“When you wanted to exchange me for Marrok?”

“No. When I promised to find a person who could defeat you and Valek. I’ve met with success. In fact, you have already had an encounter with my champion.”

“Ferde?” I played the simpleton to prolong the conversation, hoping my slow mind would produce a plan for escape.

“Act the fool, but I know better. My champion makes you sweat with fear and desire. The Fire Warper has been called to this world with one mission. To capture you. And you’re powerless against him.” Pure satisfaction shone on Cahil’s face. “I will deliver you to Jal and the Fire Warper. Jal will perform the Kirakawa ritual’s binding ceremony on you, taking your powers as the Fire Warper claims your soul.”

My mind buzzed with the need to stop him yet produced nothing intelligent. I couldn’t even connect with the power source. “And what do you get, Cahil?”

“I get to witness your death and watch your heart mate suffer before he meets the same end.”

“But Jal gains power. Do you really believe Jal will let you rule? And what about the Fire Warper? Do you think he’ll be content to go back after his task is complete?”

“He has come asking for you. Once he has you, he’ll go back. Then Jal rules Sitia, and I rule Ixia.”

I saw a faint trace of uncertainty in Cahil’s eyes. My mind pulled free from the mire of the goo-goo juice and I made a connection. “Before you said you called him. Now you say he has come. Which one is it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does. If you called him, you have control over him.”

He shrugged. “Jal will deal with him. As long as I have Ixia. I don’t care.”

“You should care. The need for power is addicting. Ask your Daviian friends about the history of the Sandseed Clan and the Daviian Mountains. Then you’ll realize Jal won’t be content with just ruling Sitia. Once your usefulness is gone, you will be too.”

“You’re just trying to trick me. I know better than to listen to you.”

He tried to stab the dart into my throat. I fell back and pulled power as Cahil pinned me with his weight. With no time to think, I focused the magic on my neck as he jabbed the dart into my skin. Closing my eyes, I treated the area as I would an injury. In my mind’s eye, I saw the Curare as a pulsing red light, spreading through my throat. I used power to push the liquid back through the tiny hole in my skin. It trickled down the side of my neck.

My gaze met Cahil’s when I opened my eyes. He stared at me with a mixture of triumph and hatred.

Hoping he hadn’t seen the drug run out, I said, “Pay close attention, Cahil. You’ll see the truth.” I acted as if I had been paralyzed, unfocusing my eyes and letting my body go slack.

He grunted and stood. “I’ve seen the truth. That’s why I want you dead.”

The Vermin joined him next to the fire, and I watched them from the corner of my eye.

“I felt magic. Brief. Did she use her power on you?” one of the Vermin asked Cahil.

“No. I got her in time.”

They discussed their plans for leaving in the morning.

When the others moved to set up camp, Cahil said, “I should kill her now.”

Alarmed replies told him it would be imprudent. For the first time ever, I agreed with the Vermin.

“Jal needs her and we do not wish to infuriate the Fire Warper,” another said.

“Why should I care about infuriating the Fire Warper?” Cahil asked. “I’m in charge. He should answer to me. He should worry about infuriating me, especially after the fiasco in the jungle.”

Soothing words were muttered.

“Put her back in the box,” Cahil finally said. “Secure it, just in case we encounter trouble.”

Two of the Vermin lifted me. I concentrated on being a dead weight. My hands were tied and I couldn’t use magic without alerting them. I knew one of the three was a Warper but was unsure about the other two. At this point I needed more information. I decided to wait for a better opportunity and hoped I would get one.

The Vermin climbed onto a cart, dropped me into a crate and shut the lid. In the darkness the sound of metal latches being closed grated on my skin. I bit down on a cry of dismay when the snap of three locks sounded. The coffin-shaped crate seemed to press into me, and I drew in a couple of calming breaths. My gaze found the small slit between the boards, allowing air to come in. And light. The faint flicker of firelight seeped through the cracks.

I wiggled into a more comfortable position. My mind raced over my limited options. Magic remained my only weapon. The desire to project my awareness and scan my surroundings pulled at me, but I knew if they discovered I wasn’t drugged, all possibility of escape would be gone. Would the Warper feel my power while he slept? Could I put the Vermin and Cahil into a deep sleep? I would still be locked in a box, but I could call someone to break me out.

Who? Only a fellow magician could hear my mental call, and I had no idea where I was. If I was lucky enough to find a local citizen, perhaps I could discover my location.

Unable to plan a course of action, I marveled over my ability to push the drug out of my body. Had I known I possessed that skill, I wouldn’t be in this situation. And my problems with Curare, sleeping potion and goo-goo juice were solved. Although it was hard to celebrate when locked in a box.

Ever since I went to Sitia, all I wanted was to learn about magic, to discover the extent of my powers and be reacquainted with my family. Events conspired against me and I had hardly had time to catch my breath, let alone spend time exploring my magic.

Pushing the Curare out of my body was a new wrinkle. My abilities only affected living things, since my magic didn’t move the drug; it must have made the muscles in my body do the work.

Desperation and raw instinct had gotten me this far. I hoped it would carry me through, and as much as I disliked using it, magic was unavoidable. If I was lucky enough to survive this, I planned to retire as a Soulfinder and limit my magic to only communicating with Kiki. I wondered if she knew I’d been taken. Did Valek know? And what about Star’s role in all this?

Too many questions without answers swirled in my mind. Eventually, my thoughts bounced back to the need to do something soon, because I sensed being delivered to the Fire Warper would be the ultimate end.

“Let’s get moving. If we push, we can reach the Avibian border by sundown.”

Cahil’s voice woke me from a light doze. A few disorienting seconds passed before I remembered my predicament and his words sank in. Shock followed understanding. We were in Sitia. I must have been under the influence of the goo-goo juice for days. Where was Valek? So much for my promise not to go to Sitia without him.

“Should we check on her?” a voice with an Ixian accent asked.

“No. She’s under Curare now. She can’t do anything besides breathe until the potion wears off,” Cahil answered. “Finish feeding the girls. We’ll let the juice wear off before we prepare them for the ritual.”

The girls? I peered through one of the slits in my crate. Another crate lay beside mine. My stomach turned to ice. How many and could I help them? I suppressed a hollow laugh. Here I was trying to save others while locked in a box.

Two lids slammed then the crate lurched forward. The sound of trotting horses added to the rumble of the wagon. We were on our way.

My body went through a gamut of emotions as the day passed. Sometimes terrified, sometimes hopeful and sometimes bored, I even listed an inventory of woes. Thirsty, hungry, aching ribs, numb hands, sore muscles and a burning cramp between my shoulder blades. With the noise of our travel masking my movements, I attempted to alleviate some of my misery. I squirmed and wiggled until I managed to squeeze my body and legs through my arms. The benefits of keeping limber and being small became apparent as I succeeded in bringing my tied hands to the front of my body. I almost groaned aloud when cool relief spread over my back.

Having my hands in front allowed me to explore. I patted my right thigh, checking for my switchblade. No luck. Even the holder had been removed. I stared at the knots on the leather straps binding my hands and pulled at them with my teeth. I untied a few before the wagon stopped, but I decided to keep working, risking discovery.

“We’ll camp here,” Cahil said. “When you’re done setting up, let the girls out. They should be lucid by now and you can get them ready for the Kirakawa tomorrow.”

“What about the Soulfinder?” one of the Vermin asked.

“Drakke will give her another dose tonight. Too much Curare could stop her heart,” Cahil replied.

I listened to the sounds of the men in the camp as I continued to gnaw and pull at my bindings. The smell of roasting meat stole into my crate. My stomach grumbled with alarming loudness. After a while, two crates were opened and two scared voices asked questions. By the brief flash of a red jumper through the slits in my box, I guessed the girls were the students from Ixia. Liv and Kieran. My heart went out to them.

Again I wondered how the Vermin and Cahil had managed to smuggle us all out of Ixia. Perhaps the Vermin had posed as traders taking a wagonload of goods across the border.

I caught glimpses of the camp. A tent had been erected and I counted four guards and three Vermin. Some of the guards I recognized as Cahil’s men, while two looked unfamiliar. All were armed with swords or scimitars. I searched for some sign of my backpack. The limited view hindered me, although I guessed my pack would be found with Cahil.

The daylight faded, and I renewed my efforts on the leather strips around my wrists. Each shrill scream from one of the girls spurred me on. I ignored the pain, the smell of fear and the metallic taste of blood as I yanked at the knots. Cahil had mentioned a ritual tomorrow. Tonight would be my only chance to escape.

The last knot proved impossible to untie, but my spit had soaked the leather enough to give a little when I moved. I pulled my hand through the last loop, scraping off a layer of skin in the process. Panting with relief, I relaxed and waited for my crate to open.

My plan was simple, with as much chance for failure as for success. Time moved at a glacial pace. Years crept by. When the rasp and click of the lock finally sounded, I laced my hands behind my back and froze.

A soft yellow glow of firelight reflected off the Vermin who opened my crate. He lifted the lid up with one hand and reached toward me with the other. He held a tiny dart between his finger and thumb.

I moved.

Grabbing his hand in both of mine, I yanked him toward me, unbalancing him. He grunted with surprise. His weight came forward. I bent his hand back and shoved the dart into the Vermin’s shoulder. Letting go of his hand, I covered his mouth to stifle his yell.

Mere seconds later the Curare paralyzed his muscles. The lid rested on his back and his body leaned on my chest. Knowing I probably had seconds before someone discovered us, I pulled the rest of him inside my box. An awkward, difficult maneuver to do while trying to keep the lid from slamming down.

Once the Vermin joined me, I wriggled from under his body and lifted the lid to peek out. The guards remained by the fire, but the other two Vermin were out of sight. The two girls had been stripped and tied down by the fire. Bloody cuts lined their arms and legs. There was nothing I could do for them right now. One problem at a time.

I slid down to the end of my crate and considered my options. Try to sneak out of the box and slip into the night or just shove the lid up and make a run for it?

What I really needed was a distraction, but that involved magic. By the time they figured out the magic came from me, I would be gone. I hoped.

A flicker of black above the campfire gave me an idea. Pulling a strand of power as thin as a spider’s silk, I projected my mind toward the bat. He flew through the hot, insect-filled air rising from the flames. I tapped into the collective consciousness of his fellow bats and sent them all an image. An image of insects covering the men below. Large juicy crawling things. Easy picking for a mass of hungry bats.

Black shapes swooped down from the sky. The guards yelled and swung their arms around. Cahil and the Warper exited the tent to investigate. The Warper yelled about magic, but his words were cut off as the bats attacked.

I pushed the lid wide and hopped out. After a quick glance to make sure no one had noticed me, I stepped off the wagon and bolted for the darkness, keeping the wagon between me and the campfire.

I encountered the third Vermin who had been tending the horses. Prepared for my approach, he had pulled his scimitar. With a gesture of his weapon magic slammed through my mental defenses and my body froze. Another Warper. I cursed as he called for his companions. Then I realized he didn’t have control of my mind. I projected to the two horses.

Tired, sore and unsettled by the smell of blood, the horses welcomed my contact. I appealed to them for help.

Bad men want to hurt me, I said in their minds.

Kick?

Please.

The one horse backed up. With a blur of motion, the Warper went flying. As soon as the man’s head slammed into the ground, he lost consciousness, releasing his magical hold on me.

Thank you. I ran.

Kick others?

Sounds of pursuit drew closer. The bats had lost their insect image when I switched my efforts to the horses.

If you can, I said, increasing my speed. Shouts of surprise reached my ears. I glanced over my shoulder. Four figures still chased me. The terrain remained flat and featureless, as if part of the Avibian Plains. A black bulge in the distance looked promising. Perhaps it was a cluster of trees.

The men gained on me. My hopes to reach cover faded with every step.

I pulled power and planned to baffle my pursuers’ minds, betting my life on the pure conjecture that I possessed the ability to project confusing images into four minds in rapid succession.

A figure on horseback approached from the left, aiming for me. I caught a glint of moonlight off a sword. My options dwindled to either bewildering the men or stopping the horse.

My chances of success went from doubtful to none when a cold sting pricked my back.

24

I DIVED TO THE GROUND, rolling into a ball. The power I had drawn to confuse my pursuers I now applied to the area turning numb on my back. In my mind, I saw the Curare spreading through my muscles, seeking my bloodstream. I swept at it, using my magic like a broom and guiding the substance to the hole. A warm wetness spread on my shirt.

The effort left me weak, and I debated the merits of pretending to be paralyzed. The ground vibrated with the drumming of hooves. The animal cut between the guards and me. An unexpected sound of steel hitting steel rang in the cool night air. I crouched.

The horse made a quick turn and came back. Recognition shot through me. I knew that gait. I jumped to my feet.

“Yelena!” Valek threw me my bow.

I caught it in midair. Kiki spun and Valek slid off her back. The rapid clash of blades followed as Valek engaged four men in a sword fight. I hurried to join him before the remaining Vermin and Cahil caught up. Four against one was pushing it for Valek. He would be outnumbered against six.

With the occasional kick from Kiki, Valek and I fought side by side. Cahil and the Warper hung back. I strengthened my mental defenses, sensing the Warper would try a magical attack.

Once Valek cut a guard’s arm in half, we pressed our advantage. As the man fell to the ground yelling with pain, Cahil ordered the remaining men to disengage. They stepped back. Valek shot me a questioning look.

“The girls are still at the camp,” I said.

He nodded and we stalked the retreating men.

The Warper threw his arms up and yelled, “Inflame.”

Power pressed on my skin. With a whoosh of hot air, the guard on the ground burst into flames. Valek and I jumped away. The man screamed and writhed. He stilled as the intense heat consumed him. Acrid puffs of charred flesh reached us, and I covered my nose.

“Come! Find your soul mate!” The Warper’s voice cut through the roaring fire.

A man’s form coalesced from the pulsing flames.

“What’s going on?” Valek asked.

“Let’s go.” I scrambled onto Kiki’s back, Valek right behind me. Kiki took off.

“What about the girls?”

Guilt stabbed my heart. “Later.”

I let Kiki decide our direction. Eventually we came to a farmhouse, modest in size and surrounded by precise flower beds. Kiki stopped at the stable and Valek slid off.

Where are we? I asked Kiki.

Ghost’s house. Good hay. Nice lad.

I eyed the wooden structure with sudden distrust. Ghosts are here?

Kiki snorted and nudged Valek. Ghost.

Moon Man had explained to me Valek’s immunity to magic made him appear as a ghost to magical creatures.

I looked at him. “Summer home? Isn’t it a little dangerous?”

He smiled. “Safe house for my corps. A base of operations.”

“How convenient.”

The stable was empty. Valek helped me remove Kiki’s saddle and groom her, delaying the inevitable conversation.

I sagged with fatigue, but needed to know what he had been doing while I was in my box. “How did you find me? And your timing was impeccable as always.”

Valek pulled me into his arms. I molded to him, seeking warmth and comfort. My body shook with a delayed reaction. The horror of the Warper setting his own man on fire replayed in my mind.

“You’re welcome, love. I had wanted to sneak in and unlock you tonight, but you had other plans. I should have been more prepared, but when I saw him poke you last night, I thought for sure you would be out of it.” He pulled me away. “Let’s go inside. I need a drink.”

The interior of the farmhouse lacked the homey warmth of its exterior. Spartan and utilitarian, Valek’s operatives obviously didn’t entertain guests here. Valek lit a few lanterns, but I refused to let him build a fire. We huddled together on the couch, sipping brandy.

“General Kitvivan’s white brandy?” I asked.

“You remembered!” Valek seemed surprised.

“There are tastes and smells that call certain memories. White brandy reminds me of the Commander’s brandy meeting.”

“Ah, yes. And after having to taste all those brandies for the Commander, you drunkenly tried to seduce me.”

“And you refused.” I couldn’t pinpoint a specific time or event when Valek’s feelings for me had changed. He had shocked me with his declaration of love in Brazell’s dungeon.

“I wanted to accept. But I didn’t know if your desire was from your heart or from the brandy. You might have regretted it later.”

The image of Valek wearing his dress uniform recreated the desire to seduce him again, but we had much to discuss.

“Enough small talk. Tell me everything,” I ordered.

He sighed. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Compared to what I’ve just been through these last—what? Three days? I don’t even know. It can’t be that bad.”

“I knew you were swimming in some very dangerous waters,” he said, “but I hadn’t known they extended so deep.”

“Valek, get to the point.”

He fidgeted. Fear brushed my heart. Something horrible had happened. I had never seen him fidget before. He stood and started prowling the room. His liquid movements were soundless.

“Five days ago you were taken—”

“Five days!” So much could have happened in that time. My thoughts went to Irys and Bain. They could be dead.

Valek put up his hand to forestall my questions. “Let me finish first. You were kidnapped by Star, and the reason she was able to smuggle you so far south, was because…I let her.” He paused to let his words sink in.

I stared at him in astonishment. “You set me up?”

“Yes and no.”

“You need to do better than that.”

“I knew Star would want to exact some type of revenge on you. She has kept in contact with the underground network, and I allowed her because then I could learn who the new players were. With the Code of Behavior, there will always be a black market for illegal goods and forged papers. I like to keep tabs on the network to make sure things don’t go too far, like when Star hired assassins to ruin the Sitian trade treaty. And when—”

“Get to the point.”

“Star knew you would be at Porter’s safe house—”

“Porter set me up?”

“I don’t think so. Are you going to let me tell you or not?” He put his hands on his hips in annoyance.

I gestured for him to go on.

“I’ve known about Porter’s rescue operation for a couple years and have allowed it to continue. However, recently, his charges have been disappearing and I’ve been wondering why. But that wasn’t the reason I watched the house. I had followed Star and three of her men there, and was shocked to see you walk blindly into her trap. Didn’t you even see her?”

“She used a subtle kind of magic.”

“I haven’t felt her, and I’ve been working with her for a while.”

I thought back to the night I had been captured. The only odd event had been when my perception had altered for a moment before returning to normal. Perhaps she had affected my vision somehow. “You didn’t pick up on my magic, either. And it flared out of control a couple times within the castle.”

“I will keep it in mind,” Valek said with an icy tone. “Star’s motives for ambushing you, I understood. The surprise arrived when she and her friends also targeted the girls. I needed to know where they were taking you.”

I mulled over his explanation. “You could have helped me that night, but instead decided to wait?”

“A calculated risk. I wanted to discover the extent of her operation and why she kidnapped the girls. I had no idea you would end up across the border and in the Wannabe King’s hands.”

Valek knelt in front of me, and would have taken my hands in his had I not kept my arms crossed. Anger simmered deep within me. I had lost five days. Five days for the Fire Warper to grow stronger.

“This wouldn’t have happened at all if you told me about your meeting with Porter,” he said.

“A calculated risk. Like it or not, I’m a magician, and if there’s a way to help my colleagues I’m going to try. I wasn’t going to tell the Commander’s magician killer about it.” Still, a small, guilt-inducing thought about killing magicians being preferable to using them to increase the Fire Warper’s power pulsed in my mind.

Valek sank back onto his heels. His expression hardened into his metal mask. “Magician killer? Is that what you think of me?”

“That is one of your duties for the Commander. I know how you operate. You like to stalk your prey before you pounce. Allowing Porter’s network to continue is part of your modus operandi.”

His expression turned flat and emotionless; my anger had ruled my tongue. My fury, though, remained.

I changed the subject. “How did Star get us into Sitia?”

As if reporting to the Commander, Valek said, “Put you into crates, stacked boxes of goods on top, and dressed as traders. They had the proper papers. The border guards did a cursory check and off you went.” He paused as extreme irritation flashed through his eyes. “The border guards will be taken to task and retrained.”

Valek stood. “I was going to suggest we get a few hours’ sleep and try to rescue those girls. But since I’m the magician killer, I guess I won’t concern myself about their fate.” He left the room.

25

THE LIFE DRAINED from the room after Valek’s departure. I blamed fatigue for my harsh words, but knew it was wrong. I had lost control of events the moment we crossed into Ixia. But the real truth was I had never had control. From the instant the Fire Warper stepped from the fire in the jungle, I’d been ruled by fear. Which had kept me alive, so far, but it had certainly made a mess of things. Valek was just the latest in a long list.

I sighed. There was a good reason for the fear. The Fire Warper’s power surpassed my own, and I didn’t think a bucket of water would douse him. Curling up on the couch, I made plans to free those girls. I couldn’t counter the Warper, but at least I could try to stop the Vermin from gaining more power.

But what about the next shipment of young magicians from Ixia? From what Valek told me, I guessed Star had tapped into Porter’s network, kidnapping his charges and selling those adolescents for the Vermin to use in the Kirakawa ritual.

After a few hours of restless sleep, I went to the stables. Kiki dozed in her stall, but she woke to my call.

Do you have enough energy for a trip? I asked.

Yes. Where?

Back to where you found me.

Bad smell.

Yes, but I need to go back and pick up their scent. They’ve probably moved into the plains by now.

We go fast.

That’s what I’m counting on. Not bothering to saddle her, I hopped onto her back. All I had was my bow. I glanced at the farmhouse. If I had apologized to Valek, he would have come with me, but I wasn’t ready to admit I needed to apologize. At least he would be safe for tonight.

We were soon near the border of the Avibian Plains. Evidence of the Vermin’s campsite littered the ground, and from the number of items left behind, it appeared Cahil had left in a hurry. Only a few hours of darkness remained.

Kiki, which way? I asked.

She headed south, and I let her choose her speed. She trotted until we reached the plains, then broke into her gust-of-wind gait. The air sped past my ears as the ground blurred. She didn’t maintain the pace for long, slowing when the smell of wood smoke and horses strengthened.

The Vermin’s magic waited on the plains. Unlike the Sandseeds’ net of protection, the Daviians preferred to lay traps, which would spring on the unsuspecting victim. Kiki sensed these hot spots and avoided them.

A faint glow of firelight shone through Kiki’s eyes. We stopped and I was considering my next move when Kiki reared and danced to the side. The sizzling odor of blood burned in Kiki’s nose. She would have bolted, but I steadied her with a soothing hand while my mind turned numb with shock.

They hadn’t waited for the next moon. Guilt slammed into me. I hunched over Kiki’s back, rocking with anger and frustration.

Girls hurt? Kiki asked.

Yes.

Go. Stop.

What? But she didn’t wait. She galloped toward the camp.

Kiki!

Help. Fix. She ran through the camp. Rearing and jumping as if crazed with fear.

Her sudden arrival surprised everyone. The guards scattered and dodged her flailing hooves and my bow. Kiki knocked down Cahil’s tent, kicked the wagon over and sent the horses running.

I froze in horror when I spotted the two Warpers stooped over the still forms of Liv and Kieran. Blood coated the Warpers’ arms up to their elbows. They each cradled a fist-size lump of meat in their hands, lovingly stroking the object. I gasped with recognition. They each held a human heart. Liv and Kieran’s hearts.

Kiki knocked me to my senses when she dumped me onto the ground. I gained my feet, ready for an attack, but the Warpers remained engrossed in their ritual.

Help, Kiki ordered as she made another loop of the camp.

I glanced at the fire. No Fire Warper yet. I mentally kicked myself for even worrying about him, and drew a thick strand of power. The Vermin defensive magic tried to clamp down on my connection, but I had pulled such a fat rope it failed to cut even a thread.

I launched my awareness at the Warpers. A fog of magic surrounded them. Instinctively, I knew in order for them to consume and maintain the power, they had to milk the blood from the hearts and inject it into their skin.

The Kirakawa ritual had its own power and I couldn’t interfere with the Warpers. Their black lust for magic sickened me and for a moment my vision filled with blood.

But a movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention. Liv’s ghost stood next to her dead body and she gestured to me, thumping her heart with a fist. I squinted at the apparition. Her ghost or her soul? When I understood her motions, I cursed myself for my stupidity.

I couldn’t affect the ritual, but there was one thing only I could do. Concentrating on the girls’ hearts, I reached for their souls. The ritual had trapped them within its chambers. I inhaled their essence, leaving behind dead flesh. The Warpers wouldn’t gain any power tonight.

Kiki slowed near me. I grabbed her mane and hauled myself onto her back. Within two strides she moved into her special gait.

When we reached the edge of the plains, I asked Kiki to stop so I could release the girls’ souls. The sun began to rise, casting long shadows on the ground. I wished I had known the girls better so I could make Sitian grief flags for them. The occasion called for the fanfare of raising their flags to memorialize the girls’ short lives.

Without silk or a flagpole, I settled for expressing my deep regret for not saving them. They felt content and relieved to be free. But what else could they say while I held their souls?

A vile thought occurred to me. I wondered if my powers were enhanced while they remained with me. Could I counter the Fire Warper if I increased my strength? Shuddering in revulsion for just thinking about it, I released their souls to the sky. They rushed from me. A lingering tingle of joy vibrated inside me before my body sagged with fatigue.

I arrived at Valek’s safe house without any memories of the trip. Kiki headed for the stable and I summoned enough energy to give her a good rubdown. The stack of hay bales outside her stall appeared to be too inviting for me to pass. I lay down on top of them and fell asleep.

An army of flaming soldiers chased me. My legs refused to run any faster as the burning men advanced. Leif rushed to my aid but, as soon as he drew near me, he burst into flames. Only Valek remained. He stood amid the conflagration, untouched by the searing heat. A block of ice, he seemed indifferent to my plight.

“Sorry, love.” He shrugged. “Can’t help you.”

“Why?”

“You won’t let me.”

The fire soldiers closed in until a circle of fire surrounded me. Tongues of flames licked at my clothes then grabbed the fabric.

“Yelena!”

Bright yellow and orange danced along my cloak. Their movements held my attention in a bizarre fascination as they consumed my clothes.

“Yelena!”

Cold water splashed on me, followed by a drenching deluge. Steam hissed. I yelled and woke, choking on the water. Valek stood next to me. He held an empty bucket.

“What?” I sat up. My clothes and hair were soaking wet. “What was that for?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“And shaking me awake seemed too tame?” He was still angry.

Valek didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled me to my feet and pointed to the figure-shaped scorch mark on the topmost hay bale. The place where I had slept.

“You were too hot to touch,” he said in a deadpan.

I shivered. If Valek hadn’t been here, what would have happened?

“I take it your rescue attempt last night has angered some powerful people? I saw you and Kiki create chaos in the camp, ruining my plans yet again. What else did you do?”

Valek hadn’t gone to bed. He had left to help the girls. Kiki and I could have gone with him. Together we might have reached the camp in time to save Liv and Kieran. Guilt balled in my chest, souring my mood. I hadn’t managed to do anything right. I didn’t find Cahil and Ferde in time. The Sandseed Clan was gone. Irys and Bain were locked up. I had upset my friends and my brother. And Valek.

He stared at me with his flat expression, giving nothing away. An invisible wall grew between us. Mine or his? I told him about the girls’ souls and how I had removed the power from the ritual.

“I should have let you kill Cahil,” I said.

If the change in subject surprised him, he didn’t allow it to show on his face. “Why?”

“It would have prevented all this.”

“I think not. Cahil’s involvement is recent. These Vermin are prepared. They’ve been planning this move for a while. Cahil wants you dead and wants his throne. I believe the whole Kirakawa ritual sickens him.”

“He helped with the kidnapping.”

“Because he wanted you. He wasn’t at the camp last night. He’s probably heading to the Citadel.”

“How do you know?”

Valek gave me a tight, joyless smile. “When you stormed the camp, I stole into the tent, intending to put the Wannabe King out of my misery. I had a few seconds to determine he was gone before the tent collapsed on me.”

I suppressed a chuckle. From the annoyed frown, I knew Valek wouldn’t appreciate it.

“But I found that.” He gestured to the floor. My backpack rested against Kiki’s stall door.

A happy cry escaped my lips and I knelt down to check the contents. Before I dug into the pack, I looked up to thank Valek, but he was gone. I considered finding him to explain, but I wasn’t ready to breach the wall surrounding me. Inside my little cocoon, I could pretend the Fire Warper’s threat to the people I loved didn’t exist.

My pack still held my switchblade, my Sitian clothes, my lock picks, vials of Curare, lumps of Theobroma, jerky, tea and Opal’s glass bat. The glow from the statue seemed brighter.

The intricate swirls of liquid fire drew my gaze. I marveled at Opal’s talent. The whirlpool of light in the core of the bat transformed into a snake. The roar of a kiln beat at my ears. Hands wielded a pair of metal tweezers to shape the thin glass body before it cooled. The thoughts of the glassmaker reached me. Opal’s thoughts.

She dripped water on a groove in the glass near the end of the pole. The snake cracked off. Using thick mittens, she picked up the piece and put it into another oven to cool slowly. This one was not as hot as the first.

Opal, can you hear me? I asked.

No response.

When my awareness returned to the bat in my hand, I knew I had reached Booruby with my mind without expending a lot of energy. Booruby! A six-day ride south of here. I hadn’t been able to reach Bain from Booruby and I had been closer. What would happen if Irys held the snake? Would we be able to communicate over vast distances without sapping our strength? My mind raced with the implications.

The cold air intruded on my excitement. My wet hair felt icy in the breeze, and I remembered Kiki mentioning snow. We were north of the Avibian Plains, but I had no idea if the farmhouse resided in the Moon Clan’s lands or Featherstone’s. Either way, by the time the storm reached us, it would turn to rain and sleet. And by looking at the gray wall of clouds advancing from the west, it wouldn’t be long before the storm hit.

I shouldered my pack and went inside. Valek had lit a small fire in the living room. His soft tread padded on the floor above me. Probably planning to sleep after being up all night.

Hesitating on the threshold of the room, I debated. My cloak was soaked. I needed the fire to dry it and I wanted to warm myself.

In the end, I changed into Sitian clothes, hung my cloak by the hearth and filled a pot for tea. I heated the water, but avoided looking directly into the fire. Feeling uneasy, I chewed a piece of jerky and drank the tea as far away from the flames as I could get. Unable to stay in the room any longer, I wanted to run upstairs to Valek. Instead, I grabbed a blanket off the couch and ran to the stables, joining Kiki.

She snorted in amusement when I made a bed of straw in her stall. I filled two buckets with water and put them next to me.

If I start to smoke, pour these on me, I said to her. I don’t want to set fire to the barn.

Soon after I laid down, an odd melody of sleet drummed on the slate roof. The whistle of wind through the rafters augmented the beat. Lulled to sleep by the storm’s music, I slept without dreams.

The arrival of a strange horse woke me and Kiki the next morning. At least I hoped the weak storm light meant the beginning and not the end of the day.

Valek led in a black horse with white socks. With its long legs and sleek body, the animal was built like a racehorse. Pulling a thread of power, I linked my mind with the new arrival.

He felt uncomfortable in this new barn. Strange smells. Strange horse. He missed his stall and friends.

Smells here are good, I said in his mind. You’ll make new friends. What’s your name?

Onyx.

I introduced him to Kiki.

Valek tied Onyx to a hitch. “We need to leave for the Citadel.” He saddled Onyx. “This weather is good cover.”

My heart twisted with pain. He had gotten his own horse so he didn’t have to sit with me on Kiki. “How far?”

“Two days. I have another safe house about a mile north of the Citadel. We can set up operations there.”

We worked in complete and utter silence.

The next two days felt more like ten. With the nasty weather, Valek’s cold shoulder and my anxiety to hurry, I would have preferred spending the time in the Commander’s dungeon.

Our arrival at the safe house seemed a relief until the necessity of planning our actions made our strained relationship almost unbearable. I remained stubborn, believing the distance between us would make it easier for me to make life-threatening decisions.

After we settled into the cottage, I headed for the Citadel. The weather again promised rain, lending a bleakness to the landscape. Bare trees and brown hills seemed muted and barren of life. I knew if I swept the area with my magic, I would feel the small stirrings of creatures, waiting for the warmth. But the risk of using magic this close to the Keep was too high.

Disguised as a Featherstone clanswoman, I wore a long-sleeved linen dress underneath a plain sand-colored cloak. Although I left my bow behind, I had access to my switchblade. My hair was pulled into a stylish knot favored by the Featherstones and held in place by my lock picks.

Valek had styled my hair. He worked in a cold and efficient manner, making it easier for me not to grasp his hands and pull him close. His deft fingers twisted the strands of my hair expertly, and a strange vision of fire melting his arms to stumps rose in my mind.

I banished the image and put my hood over my head. The north gate of the Citadel wasn’t as busy as I had hoped. In fact, once inside, only a few people walked the streets. They hunched over their packages and stared at the ground. The weather could be a factor, but the rain had ceased. The streets should be teeming with citizens hurrying to the market before the next squall.

Even the beggars were few and far between. Most of them wore expressions of worry as they glanced around, and none approached me.

The Citadel’s white marble walls looked dingy and dull. The green veins resembled streaks of dirt and the whole town felt as if a layer of grime coated it. The grunge had built up in the cracks, and soaked into the foundations. The shine was gone from the town. And it wasn’t due to the weather.

I missed a step when the first Daviian Vermin came into my sight. But soon they were everywhere. Hunching over, I mimicked the citizens’ posture, searching for an alley or side street free of Vermin. Blood throbbed in my ears. The Vermin’s gazes burned into my soul. When I entered a shortcut to the market, my legs wobbled with relief. But I kept out of view until I had studied the center square, watching the people scurrying around the market’s stands. The sense of fear even diluted the usual heady smell of spices and roasting meat.

The concentration of citizens meant more Vermin. I waited until I spotted my target and then joined the shoppers. When I drew beside a young boy of ten, I had to suppress a smile as I listened to him barter with the stand owner.

“Four coppers, take it or leave it,” Fisk said, sounding like an adult.

“I can’t feed my family for that!” the owner countered. “Since you’re my friend, I’ll take seven coppers.”

“Belladoora is selling them for four.”

“But look at this quality. Hand embroidered by my own wife. Look at the detail!” He held up the fabric.

“Five, and not a copper more.”

“Six, and that’s final.”

“Good day, sir.” Fisk walked away.

“Wait,” the stand owner called. “Five then. But you’re stealing the bread out of my children’s mouths.” He grumbled some more while wrapping the fabric in paper, but he smiled when the boy paid him the money.

I followed Fisk to his client. The woman paid him six coppers and he handed her the package.

“Excuse me, boy,” I said. “I’m in need of your services.”

“What can I do for you?” he asked. Then his eyes flew wide with shock before worry touched them. He glanced around with small furtive movements. “Follow me.”

He led me to a tight alley and into a dark dwelling. I stood in the blackness while Fisk lit a few lanterns. Thick curtains hung over the windows and only a few chairs decorated the barren room.

“This is where we meet,” Fisk said.

“We?”

He smiled. “The Helpers Guild members. We plan our day, divide up the money, and exchange gossip about our clients.”

“That’s wonderful.” Pride at what Fisk had accomplished filled my heart. The grubby beggar boy I had met on my first Citadel visit had transformed into a productive member of his family.

Fisk’s own pride showed in his light brown eyes. “It’s all because of you, my first client!”

Instead of begging for money, now Fisk and the other beggar children helped shoppers find good deals, carried packages and would do just about anything for a small fee.

His grin dropped from his face. “Lovely Yelena, you shouldn’t be here. There’s a reward for your capture.”

“How much?”

“Five golds!”

“Is that all? I thought it would be more like ten or fifteen,” I teased.

“Five is a lot of money. So much I wouldn’t trust my own cousin not to turn you in. It’s dangerous for you here. For everyone.”

“What’s been going on?”

“These new Daviian Clan members. They have taken over. At first it was just a couple of them, but now the streets are filled. Ugly rumors about their involvement with the Sandseed genocide has everyone frightened. People living in the Citadel have been questioned, and certain beggars have disappeared. Whispers about how the Council members have lost control have spread, yet they are preparing for a war.”

Fisk shook his head. He had wisdom beyond his years. I mourned the loss of his childhood. Being a child of beggars had robbed him of fun, wonder and the ability to make mistakes without fatal consequences.

“How about the Keep?” I asked.

“Locked down. No one enters or leaves except under the Daviians’ armed escort.”

The state of affairs was worse than I had anticipated. “I need you to get a message to one of the Councilors for me.”

“Which one?”

“My kinsman, Bavol Zaltana. But I don’t want you to write anything down. It must be a verbal message. Can you do it?”

Fisk frowned, considering. “It will be difficult. The Councilors all have an escort while out in the Citadel, but perhaps I could set up a distraction…” He rubbed his hands along his arms as he contemplated the task. “I can try. No promises. If it gets too hot, I’m out of there. And it’s—”

“Going to cost me. And you must not repeat the message to anyone.”

“Agreed.”

We shook hands on the deal. I told Fisk my message. He left to recruit a couple helpers. I returned to the market to purchase a few items and to eat, killing time without appearing to be.

My gaze kept returning to the Keep’s towers. Located within the Citadel’s marble walls, the Magician’s Keep occupied the northeastern section. Unable to suppress my desire to see the pink-pillared entrance gates, my path led to the Keep.

Instead of appearing warm and inviting, the cold stone seemed impenetrable and daunting. I longed to make contact with my friends and colleagues inside. Where were Dax and Gelsi? Had they been allowed to continue their studies? I felt blind and cut off, frustrated and lost. As if I had been exiled and would never see them again.

Daviian guards stood next to the Keep’s guards. Feeling too exposed, I returned to Fisk’s meeting room to await the boy’s return. Time crept along in mind-numbing increments. A small tan spider built its elaborate web in the corner of the room. To help the spider, I hunted for an insect to place on the sticky strands.

Fisk arrived as I stood on a chair, attempting to nab a moth. He puffed out his chest and declared the mission a success. “Councilor Zaltana said he would meet with you tonight in his home.” Fisk deflated a bit with his next remark. “He warned his residence is guarded by a Warper. What’s a Warper?”

“A Daviian magician.” I considered the complication. “What time?”

“Anytime, but if you’re out on the streets after midnight, the guards will arrest you. I would suggest after the evening meal. There is usually a flurry of activity as the shops close and everyone heads home.” Fisk sighed. “It used to be a good time to beg. People would feel guilty passing by a child without a home when they had a warm comfortable bed waiting for them.”

“Used to be, Fisk. That’s in the past. I bet you have a nice home, now.”

His posture straightened. “The best! Which reminds me. You had better leave before my helpers come back. We meet in the morning and again in the late afternoon.”

I paid Fisk, thanking him for the help. “If you ever get caught, don’t hesitate to tell them about me. I don’t want you to be hurt because of me.”

Fisk gave me a confused frown. “But you could be taken and killed by the Daviians.”

“Better me than you.”

“No. Things are bad and getting worse. If you’re killed, I have a horrible feeling life wouldn’t be worth living.”

Fisk’s dire comments followed me as I traveled through the Citadel. Keeping to the back alleys, I hid behind buildings until the streets filled with residents hurrying home, just as Fisk had predicted. I joined the flow, blending in as the sky grew dark and the lamplighters began their evening chore. When I passed Bavol’s dwelling, I slowed long enough to determine his house was empty.

I made another loop around the street to make sure, then slipped behind the building. Using my picks, I unlocked the back door and startled a woman.

“Oh my!” She dropped a rake. It clattered on the edge of the stone heath, and the fire she had been stirring to life dimmed.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said, thinking fast. “I have an urgent appointment with Councilman Zaltana.”

“I don’t remember him telling me about a guest. And certainly no guest would come creeping in the back door!” She swept up the iron rake and hefted it in her big hands. She wore a type of loose tunic the Zaltanas preferred, but it was hard to see in the semidarkness.

I chanced it. “We just set the meeting today. It’s regarding clan business.”

“Oh my.” She bent and raked at the coals. When a flame ignited, she used it to light a lantern. She peered at me through the glow. “Goodness, child. Come in then. Shut the door. This is all highly unusual, but I don’t know why I’m surprised. These are unusual times.”

The woman bustled and fussed about the kitchen, claiming the Councilman would soon be home and would want his supper. I helped her by lighting the lanterns in the dining room and living room. Bavol’s home was decorated with jungle art and valmur statues. A pang of homesickness struck me.

When I heard someone at the front door, I hid in the kitchen.

“His guard dog doesn’t come in the house,” the woman said. “The Councilman won’t allow it. The day that dog is allowed in will be the end of the Sitian Council.”

But would the Warper use his magic to scan the interior? Would I feel the power? I hovered by the back door just in case.

The woman said, “Call me Petal, child,” and invited me to join them for supper. She shooed away any protests about my limited time. “Nonsense, child. Let me tell the Councilman you’re here.”

“Ah, Petal,” I said, stopping her. “Perhaps it would be best if you just asked him to come in here? Dogs have very acute hearing.”

She tapped a finger to her forehead and then pointed to me before leaving. Bavol came into the kitchen with Petal on his heels. He greeted me with a tired smile.

“Smart to come before me,” he said in a soft voice. He rubbed at the dark smudges under his eyes. Worry lines etched his face and he stood as if he strained under a heavy weight. “If you’re discovered…” He sank down to perch on an edge of a stool. “You can’t stay long. If they hear or see anything out of the ordinary, the Warper will barge in and I will tell him everything.”

His matter-of-fact statement about his response to the Warper sent a ripple of fear through my body. What were the Warpers doing to gain information and cooperation?

“I’ll be quick then. Why did the Council allow the Daviians to come?”

Alarm flashed on Bavol’s face and he clamped his hands together in his lap. “Petal, could you please get me a glass of whiskey?”

She eyed him with annoyance. Even though she stirred her stew pot on the other side of the kitchen, she had been leaning toward us, trying to listen to our conversation.

With a huff of indignation, Petal left the kitchen.

Bavol closed his eyes for a moment and grimaced. But when he focused on me, his old confident self returned.

“We should have let them die,” he said.

26

“LET WHO DIE?” I ASKED, but Bavol ignored me.

“At first the Daviians required minor things from us to keep them alive. A vote one way or another. The requests became more frequent and alarming. Visitors grew in numbers and the next thing we knew we had agreed to everything.”

“Keep who alive?”

“We made a mistake, but you’re here now. Perhaps it’s not too late.”

“Bavol, I don’t—”

“The Daviians have our children.”

I stared at him for a moment in stunned silence. “How?”

Bavol shrugged. “Does it matter how? Our families live with our clans most of the year. We’re not home to protect them.”

“Who do they have?”

“My daughter, Jenniqilla. She disappeared from the Illiais Market. I’ve been instructed not to tell anyone. But from the other Councilors’ faces I knew the Daviians had gotten to everyone. Eventually, we talked about it amongst ourselves. All the Councilors with children had one taken. For the others, the Daviians kidnapped Councilor Greenblade’s husband, and Councilor Stormdance’s wife.”

“Where are they keeping them?”

“If I knew I wouldn’t be here talking to you,” he snapped.

“Sorry.” I considered the implications. Petal returned with two glasses of whiskey and handed one to me. She went back to stirring her pots.

“When?” I asked, thinking about Valek’s comment that the Vermin had been planning this before Cahil had gotten involved.

“Fourteen days ago,” Bavol whispered.

I thought back. Fourteen days seemed like fourteen years when I sifted through everything that had happened. The Vermin had grabbed the Councilors’ families right after I fled the Citadel. It wasn’t Roze influencing the Council after all.

“Do the Master Magicians know?”

“Master Bloodgood and Master Jewelrose suspected when we wrote the letter to the Commander. Master Featherstone interpreted their refusal as an act of treason. And the Daviians forced us to agree with her and sign their arrest warrant and help incarcerate them in the Keep. They cooperated,” Bavol added when he saw my concern. “It’s a shame Master Cowan is still too young to exert much influence on Master Featherstone.”

“Do you think Roze is working with the Daviians?”

“No. She would be horrified to know they are making the decisions. We are voting with her, so she is content and the Daviians are offering her support in her campaign against the Commander.”

“Couldn’t she learn of your dilemma from your thoughts?”

Bavol’s gaze snapped to me. “That would be a serious breach of the Magician’s Ethical Code. Master Featherstone would never resort to invading our private thoughts.”

I had a difficult time believing in Roze’s high moral standards, but I possessed no evidence to the contrary.

“Should I set an extra place for dinner?” Petal asked.

Bavol and I both shook our heads no. His anxious expression reminded me I needed to leave soon. She tsked and carried a stack of plates from the kitchen.

Finding and rescuing the Council’s family members became a priority. There was one way I could discover where they were being held, but I would have to use magic.

“Bavol, I may be able to find your daughter through you. But I can’t do it in the Citadel. Is there any chance you can leave?”

“No. My guard is with me always.”

“Could you slip out the back door?”

“I have to make contact with my guard every hour. It is the only way he will give me any privacy.”

“What about when you’re sleeping?”

“He sits in the living room. Petal doesn’t know about it, since she retires so early and sleeps like a log. I haven’t been able to sleep since Jenniqilla’s capture. I’m up before the sun and can send him back outside.”

“It will have to be during the night, then. I’ll make arrangements. Just don’t be surprised if you have company in your bedroom tomorrow evening. And leave the back window open.”

“That’s Petal’s room,” he said.

“Perhaps you can make sure she remains asleep?”

He sighed. “I long for the simpler days. Never again will I complain about Councilor Sandseed’s stubbornness or Councilor Jewelrose’s petty problems.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Petal called.

“You should go,” he said.

“Do you know any way I could get into the Keep?”

“The emergency tunnel. But I don’t know if it has collapsed or been sealed up. The magicians dug it when they first constructed their Keep, during the clan wars long ago. I hadn’t known it existed until recently. Second Magician mentioned it to me a few days before they arrested him and Fourth Magician.”

“Are Bain and Irys still being held in the Keep’s cells?”

“As far as I know.”

“Did Bain tell you where the tunnel is located?”

“He said something about the east side of the Keep, and about how it was big enough for a horse.” Bavol stood. “We have lingered too long. I expect to hear from you again. Stay safe.” He went into the dining room.

I waited a moment, then opened the back door. Peeking out, I scanned the dark alley. It appeared to be deserted, but without my magic, I couldn’t be sure. I risked it and left Bavol’s. The Citadel’s quiet streets alarmed me. Only a few people walked on the roads, and most of them were Vermin. Even the taverns remained dark and desolate.

My chances of getting through the north gate undetected didn’t seem likely. I considered going to one of the inns, but the Vermin could have people there watching for strangers. The longer I stayed on the street increased the danger of being caught.

In desperation, I found a house with an outside staircase reaching the ground of a narrow alley. Climbing up to the top of the steps without making too much noise, I stood on the handrail and reached for the edge of the roof. I discovered a problem with marble buildings as I tried to use the wall to push myself onto the roof. My foot slipped and I just managed to regain my balance and avoid plummeting four stories to the ground.

In the end, I employed my acrobatic training and made a leap of faith onto the roof. Good thing these same marble walls were thick enough to mask the sound of my thud.

I lay on the flat roof, gasping, glad Valek hadn’t been here to see my awkward ascent. His ability to scale the Commander’s castle walls was now more impressive. I wondered if he would be worried when I failed to come back. Perhaps it was for the best that I had stayed too long with Bavol. Multiple trips through the gate would arouse suspicion.

The night air turned cold. I huddled in my cloak and slept. Dreams of fire haunted me. No matter where I ran to or where I hid, the flames always found me. Always.

I woke sweat soaked in the morning light, achy and feverish. The prospect of climbing down from the roof unseen and finding Fisk was as appealing as taking a cold bath. At least descending proved easier than ascending the roof. I made it down the stairs and into the alley without incident. Although the thumping in my head failed to stop.

Bleary-eyed and tired, I searched for Fisk at the market. Remembering his meeting room, I hid nearby and waited for him.

The group of children who left the building caused me to smile. So intent on their day’s work, they moved with purpose and carried themselves with a businesslike air. After they disappeared from sight, Fisk appeared beside me.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“Nothing bad. I have another job for you.” I told him what I needed and he thought he could help me. “I don’t want anyone to get into trouble, though.”

“Don’t worry, you picked a good night.”

“Why is it good?”

“It’s Midseason’s Night. We celebrate the midpoint of the cold season. Gives everyone something to look forward to.” Fisk grinned. “Doesn’t Ixia have something similar?”

“Yes. They hold an annual Ice Festival. People display their handcrafts and get together to exchange ideas. I just hadn’t realized we were this far into the season.”

“The celebration’s bound to be quieter this year, but there should be enough activity to hide ours.” This time Fisk’s smile held a hint of mischievousness, reminding me of Janco.

I’d bet Janco had been pure trouble as a kid. At least I hadn’t upset him and Ari before leaving Ixia. Then again, since I hadn’t brought them along, they could be annoyed with me, too.

We made plans for the evening and Fisk told me of a place where I could stay to wait for the night. After he left, I walked over to the Council Hall. I made a loop around it while trying not to appear as if I held any special interest in the square structure. The activity on the wide steps leading to the first floor was busy. The Councilors’ offices, the great hall, record room, library and Citadel’s jail all resided inside. My interest lay in the record room. Information from all the clans had been stored there, and I wanted to find any mention about the magician’s emergency tunnel within the records. Or perhaps the library would have some reference to the Keep’s layout?

Bain’s private stash of books most likely contained the information I needed. The irony of my situation was not lost on me. The Second Magician had told Bavol about the tunnel’s existence because he knew Bavol would be the first person I would contact. What Bavol had thought was an interesting tidbit of information turned out to be a message for me.

The lack of details remained a problem. East side of the Keep and big enough for a horse didn’t give me much to go on.

The flow of people in and out of the Council Hall stayed steady. However, a few Vermin hung about and I decided not to risk my life for research.

When I headed back toward the market, a strange feeling touched my back as if a thousand little spiders crawled up my spine in unison. Turning a corner, I glanced to the side. A male Daviian walked a small distance behind me. He wore red pantaloons and a brown hooded short cape. When I rounded another corner, he remained on my tail.

His scimitar glinted in the sunlight. I entered the market. Pausing at a vegetable stand, I hoped the Vermin would pass me, but he leaned on a lamppost. Small darts of panic began to pierce my heart. If the Daviian was a Warper, I wouldn’t be able to lose him.

Joining with a group of women, I stayed with them as they shopped. The man kept pace with us. I needed a distraction and fast.

One of the women in the group paid for a beaded necklace. She had been rather loud and full of opinions as we went from stand to stand, and she made her annoyance over my unwanted presence clear to me.

When the stand owner handed her the wrapped package, I leaned over and whispered to her, “He sold that very same necklace to my friend for two silvers last week.”

The woman had just paid four silvers. As predicted, she loudly demanded the same price and the confused seller tried to reason with her. The ensuing argument drew a considerable crowd and I squeezed between them, hoping to lose the Daviian.

No luck. He caught sight of me and followed. A few shoppers temporarily blocked his way, and I ducked under one of the market stands.

Not the best decision, but I had run out of options. I hunched under the table. A purple cloth had been draped over it and the material hung to the ground. A few bolts of fabric and a box of buttons had been stored underneath.

I wondered when it would be safe to leave. Popping up just as the Vermin walked by wouldn’t be ideal, so I squirmed into a more comfortable position to wait.

The purple fabric pulled aside. I froze.

A man’s face peered through the opening. “Your friend’s gone. It’s safe to come out.”

He backed away when I started to move. “Thanks,” I said, brushing the dirt off my cloak.

“Attracting their attention is never a good thing,” the man said. His round face held a serious expression. “People tend to disappear around here. Especially those with five golds on their head.”

I calmed my furious heartbeat. The stand owner knew I hid under his table and he hadn’t reported me. At least not yet. Perhaps he wished to strike a bargain? Something like six golds to keep quiet.

“Don’t worry. You’re a friend to Fisk and his guild. And just the fact the Daviians would be willing to pay five golds for your capture means you, of all people, scare them. I hope for the sake of my family the reason you scare them is because you can do something to bring our normal lives back.”

“I scare them,” I agreed, thinking about the Sitian Council and how terrified they had been over me being a Soulfinder. “But I don’t know if I can restore your old way of life. I’m only one person.”

“You have Fisk’s help.”

“Until my money runs out.”

“True. That little scamp, forcing me to make an honest living!” The man paused and considered. “Aren’t there any others to help you?”

“Would you help me?”

He blinked in surprise. “How?”

“Not all these Vermin are Warpers. They carry scimitars and spears, but look around you—they are outnumbered.”

“But their Warpers have powerful magic.”

“You don’t have any magicians? No one has escaped from the Keep? No one has come from the other clans?”

His eyes lit with understanding. “But they’re scattered around the Citadel. They hide in fear.”

“A concerned citizen needs to convince them to act despite their fear, to organize them and, when the time is right, to lead them.”

“You can do that. You’re the Soulfinder.”

I shook my head. “My presence would jeopardize the efforts. I’m needed elsewhere. If you’re determined, you will find the right person.”

The man smoothed out the fabric on his table. He appeared deep in thought. “Merchants come and go from the Citadel all the time…caravans of goods…”

“Just be very careful.” I started to walk away.

“Wait. How will we know when the time is right?”

“I have a bad feeling that you won’t be able to miss it.”

After the day settled into night, I met up with Fisk and his uncle. People walked the streets in good humor despite their Vermin watchers and the late hour. While Fisk went to prepare for later, I led his uncle onto the roof.

Once we ascended, we traveled over the roofs of the Citadel to Bavol’s dwelling. If they weren’t out celebrating, the other residents had already gone to bed. I pulled the rope Fisk had bought for me from my pack, and secured it around the chimney before tossing the end over the side.

The glow from the lamplights didn’t reach the back alley, so I hoped Bavol had remembered to open the back window. Clutching the rope, I shimmied down the side of the house and was relieved to find the window open. I climbed into Petal’s room with the utmost care. Inside the room, I stilled and listened to her breathing, steady with the occasional snore. I yanked on the rope, then held it stable while Uncle slid down. He joined me in the room with a thump. We both froze until Petal resumed her even breathing.

Bavol, awake and ready, waited for us in his room. Uncle slipped into bed, pulling the blankets up to his neck and the Councilor came with me to the back window. Living in the jungle canopy all his life, Bavol had no trouble ascending the rope. I followed.

Traveling over the rooftops proved to be ideal. Eventually, we climbed down to the ground. When we came within sight of the north gate, we found a place to hide. No traffic. I worried, and the longer the gate remained empty the greater my fear.

As I tried to decide if we should risk crossing through, a group of obviously inebriated men and women approached. With loud voices, a few of the group decided they wanted to go outside the Citadel, and a discussion ensued, leading to a fight.

When the guards became entangled in the brawl, Bavol and I slipped through the gate unnoticed. Once out of sight of the guardhouse, we ran. Our time was limited.

We reached Valek’s cottage and I hoped we would be far enough away from the Citadel and the Warpers.

Kiki whinnied in her stall and I opened my mind to her.

Lavender Lady safe, she said with contentment. Ghost upset.

I’ll talk later. No time right now. I hustled Bavol into the cottage. Valek sat on the couch, his expression set into cold fury.

I ignored his anger. He of all people should know the nature of this operation lent itself to unforeseen circumstances. However, I knew why Bavol’s face blanched when he spotted Valek on the couch.

“You set me up,” he said, taking a step back.

“Relax, Bavol. If Valek was going to assassinate the Council, you would be dead by now. He’s helping me.”

Valek snorted. “I am? Funny how I forgot. Or is it because someone forgot about me?” Sarcasm spiked each word.

Again, I ignored his fury and filled him in on what Bavol had told me. His face lost some of his ire as he considered the new information.

“Bavol, sit down. Close your eyes. Think of your daughter,” I ordered.

When he settled on the couch, I reached for power. Touching the source caused a sudden rush of relief. I hadn’t used magic in two days and reconnecting felt like being wrapped tight in my mother’s arms.

I projected my awareness to Bavol. His loving thoughts dwelled on his little girl. She appeared to be around eight years old. Strands of gold streaked her long brown hair and a spattering of freckles dotted her warm maple-colored cheeks. A beautiful child, she twirled with delight after being presented with a piece of sap candy.

Through Bavol, I reached toward Jenniqilla. Within the memory, her happiness over the candy matched her joy over spending time with her father. I pushed past the memory and tried to find the girl.

She missed her father with a painful desperation. Cold and hungry, she wanted her father and mother more than food or heat. She rocked back and forth, trying to soothe the child in her arms. The two-year-old boy’s crying had set off a chain reaction among the children in the room. A woman paced with a year-old baby girl and the man tried to cajole another two-year-old.

The gloomy light in the wooden room came from small cracks between the gray boards. The area contained no furniture and only two slop pots had been placed behind a ripped screen. From the harsh acidic smell, the pots hadn’t been emptied in a while. A coating of grime clung to Jenniqilla’s skin and she promised herself she would never fuss at her mother about bathing again. An icy chill seeped into her legs and back from the dirt floor.

Jenniqilla, I said in her mind. Where are you?

She glanced around, wondering if someone had called her name. Seeing no one, she continued to sing to Leevi.

I’m your cousin, Yelena. I need to know where you are so I can help you and the others.

She remembered how her second cousin was taken long ago, but had returned. If she got away, than I can, too, she thought.

Jenniqilla was too young to access the power source. She couldn’t communicate with me directly, but she felt the intentions of my power. She remembered her kidnapping. Somehow, she had lost sight of her mother at the market. As she wandered around, searching for Mama a man dressed in the loose tunic of the Sandseed clan picked her up. Before she could yell, he clamped a sweet-smelling rag over her mouth and nose.

Jenniqilla woke inside a box and cried for Mama. A man banged on the wood and threatened to kill her if she didn’t shut up. She felt movement and when the box stopped and opened, the same Sandseed man pulled her out and brought her to an old dilapidated barn smelling of rot. Within the barn was another structure. This one smelled like sawed wood and had shiny locks on the door.

When they shoved her through the door, dark shapes moved in the corners. Distraught and confused, she cried. A woman materialized from one of those black forms and took Jenniqilla into her arms. After she had quieted, the woman, Gale Stormdance, explained to her why they all were there.

Ask Gale where you are, I encouraged Jenniqilla.

But Gale wasn’t sure. “I think somewhere in Bloodgood’s lands,” she said. Her face grew thoughtful, and I projected myself toward her and encountered a magical defensive barrier.

She stared at Jenniqilla in shock but lowered her defenses tentatively.

I’m here to help, I said to Gale, explaining who I was and how I had found her.

Thank goodness, she said. I’ve been hoping a Keep magician would look for us. Why did it take so long?

I updated her on what I knew, then asked her again about her whereabouts.

I only had a brief glimpse. I sensed her frustration.

Visualize the area around the barn for me.

Forest-covered hills loomed behind the barn and a large stone farmhouse was located to the right. Something odd had caught her eye on the left. A glint of sunlight off a crimson-colored pond. The shape, though, had been stranger than the color. Her mind sifted through all the panic and fear of being hauled out of a crate and taken inside to find the required image.

A diamond, she exclaimed. The pond is shaped like a diamond.

It was a start. I thanked her for her help and promised to find them.

I pulled away from Gale, away from Jenniqilla and back to Bavol. A thin filament looped around my mind as I returned to Bavol. As if another power had caught me in a parasitic embrace.

Through Bavol’s confused mind, I returned to my body. Valek had disappeared and the smell of smoke burned my nose. I rushed to the window.

The stable was on fire.

27

“KIKI!” I SCREAMED, running. The image of her trapped in her stall and engulfed by flames filled my vision.

A voice yelled my name.

A black horse stood in the pasture.

A Daviian Warper coaxed the blaze higher. Brighter. Hotter.

It didn’t matter.

The parasite in my mind had gained control.

I ran straight into the stable, diving into the fire.

The heat burned my face and seared the inside of my nose. Flames danced with delight on my cloak, eating the fibers in gleeful disregard. The soles of my boots melted. The smoke robbed air from my lungs. My throat closed.

Hot knives of pain stabbed into my skin. Layers burned off in sheets of torment. The sound of boiling blood sizzled in my ears.

Pleasure followed pain and the colors of my world turned from white-hot and blinding yellow into bloodred and ice-black.

I marveled at my surroundings. Lit with a soft gray light, the flat world extended for miles in every direction. With reluctance, I glanced at my body, expecting to see a burnt corpse, but was surprised to find no damage. A weightless feeling tingled, and my arms and legs were slightly transparent.

A ghost perhaps? Was I in the shadow world? Then where were the others? All the Sandseeds who waited for me. Perhaps they had been a figment of Moon Man’s imagination.

A soft laugh sounded beside me.

“You don’t see them because you have chosen not to see them,” a voice said.

A voice I feared more than anything. The Fire Warper stood next to me. He had lost his cloak of flames and appeared as an ordinary man. Broad shouldered with short dark hair, he stood as tall as Moon Man. His skin gleamed as if carved from coal.

He raised his arm to me. “Go ahead, touch it. It’s not hard.”

I hesitated. “You read my mind?”

He laughed again. “No. I read the question in your eyes. Despite your fear, you’re curious. An admirable trait.”

The Fire Warper stroked my arm with his fingertips. I jerked away.

“So afraid of being burned. I knew I needed a big fire to attract my little bat. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Bad enough.” Caught here with him, my fear turned to resignation.

He seemed delighted with my response. Gesturing around, he said, “So what do you think of my fire world? Rather dull?”

“Yes. I thought it would be…” I scanned the featureless plain, with black ground and crimson sky.

“Hotter? Filled with burning souls? That you would be welcomed by your old tormentor, Reyad, for an eternity of rape and torture?”

“Filled with souls,” I agreed. Drawn into the fire before, I had seen others.

“That’s because you were with Moon Man. He has chosen to see those unfortunate souls. They’ve all lived colorful stories of life. You block them from your mind. Unwilling to see and unwilling for Moon Man to show you.”

“I saw them in the shadow world, and relieved him of those painful images,” I protested.

“Really? Do they haunt your dreams? Are you working with Moon Man to soothe them?” He paused and, when I didn’t answer, he smiled. “Of course not! You have locked them away just like you have pushed Moon Man and your brother out of your life. Soon Valek will follow.”

“At least they’ll be safe.”

“No one is safe.”

Tired of his wordplay, I asked him what he wanted.

The amusement dropped from his face in an instant. “The sky.”

I stared at him.

“I rule the fire world. I now have control over the shadow world, thanks to those Daviian magicians. And even though the shadow world is a borderland between fire and sky, I still can’t access the sky.”

“Why?”

“Because once I rule the sky, I can return to the living world.”

Horror rolled through me. “What’s in the sky?”

“The source of all magic.”

I didn’t quite understand. All magicians had access to the power source. Would he block others from using it?

“You know so little of magic,” he said. His expression was incredulous.

I peered at him. His face had changed from smooth to covered with burn scars. His skin rippled as if melting.

“Why do you need me?”

“You’re the only one who can get me into the sky.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because this is what I’ll do to your family and friends.”

He touched my arm. Burning pain seared up my shoulder and encompassed my head. My eyes turned hot and dry. The other occupants of the fire world became visible through a shimmering veil of heat.

Souls writhed in pain, dancing as if flames clinging to a log. Twisting and contorting, their misery pulsed off them in waves. The force of their emotions slammed into me. I stepped back into the Fire Warper’s embrace.

He pointed to the different souls. “A few belong here, like Hetoo and Makko. Others were sent by the Daviians to feed me. Increased my power so much I can travel into the shadow world and steal more souls.” He dragged me through the sea of suffering. “Your brother would add nicely to my collection. His magic is strong. Moon Man.” He savored the Story Weaver’s name. “Would bring me a cooling blue power. Combined, your mother and father would give me a boost. But I’ll let them all live if you help me.”

“If I help you, you’ll be able to rule the living world, so how does that save them?”

“I’ll show them special favor.”

I knew they wouldn’t agree. Yet spending eternal life in complete misery wasn’t an attractive alternative.

The Fire Warper released me. The souls faded from sight and the dull plain reappeared.

“Much better, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“This could be your eternity. It’s not very interesting, but it is safe. However…”

I leaned forward.

“You could live in the sky. It’s peaceful and filled with contentment and joy.”

“Until you join them.”

“I only need to use them for a while. Once I’ve returned to the living, I will let you preside over their happiness.”

An appealing prospect, except he had changed his story and I knew then I couldn’t trust anything he said or promised. Being dead hadn’t released me from my responsibilities at all. Perhaps if I went into the sky, I could tap into the power source and stop him.

“What would I have to do?” I asked.

“You need to find a soul on its way to the sky and follow it.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be with you.”

I looked at him in confusion.

“When you go to the sky, you’ll be able to explore all aspects of magic. But to get there, you need to draw a soul to you. You know how to do that. Once you have the soul, step into the fire. Come to me and together we will go to the sky,” he explained.

“But I’m dead already. Why can’t I take one of the souls that doesn’t belong here?”

He shook his head. “You must come under your own volition. You’re not dead. I pulled you from the flames before they could consume your body. Besides, all these souls belong here. They don’t deserve to be in the sky.”

Another contradiction. I didn’t know what to believe. And his motives were unclear, so I asked him, “Why do you want to go back to the living world?”

His burned face creased with anger. Fire erupted on his shoulders. “He sent me here to spend an eternity in misery. But his descendant released me, fed me power in exchange for knowledge and obedience. My master is strong, but not that strong. I have exceeded my savior’s power. Now I want to regain my life that had been stolen from me.”

“Who sent you here?”

“An Efe traitor named Guyan. Now do we have an agreement? If not, then you will remain here.” He shrugged as if my decision didn’t concern him too much.

Guyan’s name was familiar to me. He was Gede’s ancestor. So my new Story Weaver was in league with the Fire Warper. Perhaps Gede was also their leader Jal. I would have to remember that tidbit the next time I had a lesson scheduled with Gede. I choked out a laugh. At this point, there would be no future sessions for me.

I scanned the flat plain, peering into the red-tinged light. A gray shape swooped from the air. It dived and danced over a figure. I moved closer. The shape was a bat. But there weren’t any insects or sources of heat to warrant its actions. Yet it picked and yanked at the figure. Another torture on the poor soul?

“What do you see, Yelena?” the Fire Warper asked. “Your future?”

“Perhaps.” I turned away.

“Will you come back?”

“Yes.”

He held out his hand. I grasped it. My world melted in a blaze of heat and cooled just as quickly in a swirl of ash and smoke. I lay among the ruins of the stable. Charred beams rested in crooked angles, twisted pieces of blackened metal littered the floor, and the scorched smell of burnt leather hung in the air.

I stumbled from the still-warm pile of wood. Singed holes peppered my clothes and soot streaked my skin. My cloak was gone. The hair on my arms had been burned away. I reached for my head, stopping when I encountered half-burnt stubble instead of hair.

My ruined boots crunched on the remains of the stable and shuffled through ash-filled puddles as I walked out, seeking Kiki. No response to either my mental or physical calls.

A loud bang sounded behind me and I turned to see Valek standing in the doorway of the cottage.

I laughed at his expression of complete and utter surprise. Then my legs turned to liquid as I realized what I would really lose when I kept my promise to the Fire Warper. My efforts were so focused on trying to protect him—protect everyone—I hadn’t considered the cost of keeping them safe. I fell.

He was beside me in an instant. Caressing my face with a feather-light touch, he looked uncertain.

“Are you real?” he asked. “Or just some cruel joke?”

“I’m real. A real simpleton, Valek. I should never have said…I should never have done…” I drew in a deep breath. “Forgive me, please?”

“Would you promise never to do it again?” he asked.

“Sorry, I can’t.”

“Then you certainly are real. A real pain in the ass, but that’s who I fell in love with.” He pulled me close.

I clung to him with my ear pressed against his chest. The beat of his heart, steady and solid, comforted me. His soul, nestled within its chambers, was unreachable with my magic, but he had given it to me freely.

“Why were you so determined to push me away, love?”

“Fear.”

“You’ve faced fear before. What’s different?”

Good question. The answer horrified me. All this time I believed I wanted to protect my friends and family from the Fire Warper. “I’m afraid of my magic.” The words tumbled from my mouth, breaking through the invisible barrier I had built between us. “If I harvested enough souls, I know I would possess ample power to defeat all the Warpers, including the Fire Warper. That’s tempting. Tempting enough to want to protect you from me.”

Valek pulled back and tilted my head so he could meet my gaze. “But all you need to do is ask. We wouldn’t hesitate to give you our souls to defeat the Warpers.”

“No. There has to be another way.”

“And that would be…?”

“When I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.” Before he could comment, I added, “You never answered me. Am I forgiven?”

He sighed dramatically. “You’re forgiven. Now come inside, you reek of smoke.”

Valek helped me to my feet. I swayed on unsteady legs for a moment. “Where’s Kiki?”

“Once you disappeared into the stable, she ran off and hasn’t come back.”

I wanted to find her and reassure her, but my body lacked the energy.

We walked to the cottage. The bright light of midday burned in the sky. I could no longer think of the sky without remembering my deal with the Fire Warper. Unease wrapped around chest.

“Where’s Bavol?” I asked to distract myself.

“The Daviian Warper captured him while I tried to douse the fire. Will they kill him?”

“No. They need him and all the Councilors for a while to keep up the pretense that the Council and Master Magicians are in charge.”

“How long will it last?”

“Not very.”

“Will they come after us here?”

The Fire Warper had gotten what he wanted. “No. But we need to retake control.”

“We, love? I thought you could handle this by yourself.”

Dealing with the Fire Warper was my task, but, for the rest, I required assistance. “I was wrong.”

Valek heated water and filled the cast-iron tub. He removed my pile of burnt clothes. By the time I finished bathing, he had brought me a clean outfit.

“What’s this?” He held Opal’s glass bat.

I told him about my visit with Opal. “As a fellow artist, what do you think of the construction?”

Valek examined the statue, turning it this way and that. “It’s an accurate reproduction. The coloring matches one of the smaller jungle bat species. It’s sticky with magic. I feel it, but can’t see it. Can you?”

“The inside glows as if molten fire has been captured by ice.”

“That would be something to see, then.”

Thinking about what the Fire Warper had done to show me his world, I touched Valek’s shoulder and opened myself to him, letting him see the bat through me.

“Ahh…spectacular. Can everyone see this?”

“Only magicians.” And the Commander, I thought.

“Good. That lays that debate to rest. I am not a magician.”

“Then what are you? You’re not a regular person either.”

Valek pretended to be mortified.

“Come on,” I said. “Your skills as a fighter have an almost magical air. Your ability to move without sound and blend in with shadows and people seem extraordinary. You can communicate with me over vast distances, but I can’t contact you.”

“An anti-magician?”

“I suppose, but I’d bet Bain could find it in one of his books.” I told Valek about the tunnel and about the Councilors’ families, describing the pond to him.

He considered. “That sounds like Diamond Lake in the Jewelrose lands. It’s near the Bloodgood border. The Jewelrose Clan had built a series of lakes that resemble shapes of jewels and the water reflects the colors.”

“Why red?”

“Because the Jewelrose Clan is famous for cutting rubies into diamond shapes. The Commander even has a six-carat ruby on a ring, but he had stopped wearing it after the takeover. I wonder…” Again, Valek’s gaze grew distant.

“What?”

He looked at me as if deciding whether to tell me something important. “Have you shown your bat to the Commander?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

I hesitated. I had promised the Commander to keep what he called “his mutation” a secret. Would telling Valek about the bat break that confidence? “I know about the Commander, love. How could you believe that I spent the last twenty-one years with him and not know?”

“I…”

“After all.” Valek made a scary face. “I am the anti-magician!”

I laughed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“For the same reason you didn’t.” He wrapped my bat and placed it back into my pack.

“The Commander saw the glow. I think his body contains two souls, but I have no idea how or why it’s magical. And if he does have magic, why didn’t he flame out after puberty?”

“Two? Ambrose’s mother died during his birth and there was some confusion. The midwife insisted a boy had been born, but later his father held a baby girl. They searched for evidence of a second child but found nothing. They chalked it up to the midwife being upset about losing her patient. Ambrose used to blame this invisible twin whenever he was in trouble, which from his stories was quite often. His family indulged him when he began wearing boy’s clothes and calling himself Ambrose. It seemed mild in comparison to a few of his other antics.”

“Was his mother a magician?”

“She was considered to be a healer, but I don’t know if she healed with magic or with mundane remedies.”

Valek drained the tub while I attempted to do something with my ruined hair. Some sections remained long, while others had been burnt to stubble.

“Let me, love.” Valek removed the brush from my hands. He rummaged around the bath area until he found his razor. “Sorry, nothing else will work.”

“How did you get so good with hair?”

“Spent a season working undercover as Queen Jewel’s personal groomer. She had beautiful, thick hair.”

“Wait, I thought all the Queen’s servants had to be women.”

“Good thing no one thought to look up my skirt.” Valek grinned with impish delight as he cut my hair. Large chunks floated to the ground. I stared at them, trying to convince myself losing my hair didn’t matter. Especially not when I considered I wouldn’t need it in the fire world.

After he finished, Valek said, “This will help with your disguise.”

“My disguise?”

“Everyone’s looking for you. If I disguise you as a man, you’ll be much harder to find. Although…” He studied my face. “I’ll use a little makeup. Being a man won’t draw unwanted attention unless they notice you don’t have any eyebrows.”

I touched the ridge above my eyes with my fingertips, feeling smooth skin. I wondered if they would grow back. Again, I dismissed the notion. It wouldn’t matter in the end.

“What should we do first? Try to find the tunnel to the Keep, if it even exists. Or go and rescue the Councilors’ families?” I asked.

“We should—” Valek sniffed the air as if he smelled a dangerous scent. “Someone’s coming.”

28

HE SIGNALED ME TO WAIT and left without a sound. I grabbed my switchblade and crept through the living room. A murmur of voices filtered in from the kitchen. The door flew open as soon as I reached it. I brandished my knife at the hulking figure in the doorway.

“What happened to your hair?” Ari demanded. “Are you all right?”

Janco followed him in. “Look what happens when you sneak off without us!”

“I’d hardly call being captured and taken to Sitia inside a box sneaking off,” I said.

Janco cocked his head this way and that. “Aha! You look just like a prickle bush in MD-4. If we buried you up to your neck, we could—”

“Janco.” Ari growled.

“If you gentlemen are finished, I’d like to know why you disobeyed my orders,” Valek said.

Janco smiled one of his predatory grins as if he had anticipated this question and already composed an answer. “We did not disobey any of your orders. You said to keep an eye on Yelena’s brother, the scary-looking big guy and the others. So we did.”

Valek crossed his arms and waited.

“But you didn’t specify what we should do if our charges came to Sitia,” Ari said.

“How could they possibly escape the castle and get through the borders?” The expression on Valek’s face showed his extreme annoyance.

Glee lit Janco’s eyes. “That’s a very good question. Ari, please tell our industrious leader how the Sitians escaped.”

Ari shot his partner a nasty look, which didn’t affect Janco’s mood in the least. “They had some help,” Ari said.

Again, Valek said nothing.

Ari began to fidget, and I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. The big man resembled a ten-year-old boy who knew he was about to get into a lot of trouble. “We helped them.”

“We?” Janco asked.

“I did.” Ari sounded miserable. “Happy now?”

“Yes.” Janco rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be good. Go on, Ari. Tell him why—although, I think they magiked him.” He waggled his fingers.

“They didn’t use magic. They used common sense and logic.”

Valek raised an eyebrow.

“There’re strange things going on here,” Ari said. “If we don’t put it right, then it’ll spread like a disease and kill us all.”

“Who told you this?” I asked.

“Moon Man.”

“Where are they now?” Valek asked.

“Camped about a mile north of here,” Ari said.

The drumming of horses reached us before Valek could comment. Through the window, I saw Kiki followed by Topaz, Garnet and Rusalka.

“How did they find us?” Icy daggers hung from Valek’s voice.

Janco seemed surprised. “They didn’t know where we were going. I told them to wait for us.”

“Isn’t it frustrating when no one obeys your orders?” Valek asked.

We went outside. Tauno rode on Kiki and she came straight to me. She bumped my chest with her nose. I opened my mind to her.

Don’t go into fire again, she said.

I didn’t reply. Instead, I scratched behind her ears as Tauno slid off her back. He greeted me with a cold look and returned to the others. Leif, Moon Man and Marrok lingered near their horses while they talked to Ari and Janco.

From Leif’s various frowns and Tauno’s scorn, I knew they remained angry with me. I couldn’t blame them—I had acted badly. Liveliness lit Marrok’s face and I hoped Moon Man had been able to weave his mind back into a coherent whole.

Everyone went inside, but I stayed behind, taking care of the horses as best as I could with half-burnt brushes and scorched hay. Part of the pasture’s fence had caught fire and collapsed. I stared at the gap, knowing the well-bred Sandseed horses didn’t need a fence and Onyx and Topaz would stay with them. However, I attempted to fix the broken section. And kept at it while the sun set and the night air turned frosty. Kept working even when the horses decided it was too cold in the open and left the pasture to find warmth under a copse of trees nearby.

Valek arrived. I pounded on a post with a heavy rock. He halted my swing and removed the rock from my hand.

“Come inside, love. We have plans to discuss.”

Reluctance pulled at my feet as if I walked through thick, sticky mud.

The living-room conversation died the moment I entered. Moon Man looked at me with sadness in his eyes and I wondered if he knew about my deal with the Fire Warper or if he was disappointed by my actions.

A fire had been lit. I sat down next to it, warming my frozen and bleeding fingers, no longer afraid of the flames. The trapped souls within the fire twisted. Their pain and presence were clear and I wondered how I had been able to ignore them before.

I averted my gaze. Everyone stared at me. Ari and Janco had gained their feet and held their bodies as if ready to spring into action.

“Did I pass your test?” I asked. “By not diving into the flames.”

“That’s not it,” Janco said. “You have a rather ugly bat clinging to your arm.”

Sure enough, a hand-size bat peered at me from my upper left arm. His eyes glowed with intelligence; his claws dug into my sleeve. I offered a perch and he transferred his weight to the edge of my right hand. Carrying him outside, my efforts to release him failed. He didn’t want to leave. Settling on my shoulder, he seemed content so I returned inside.

No one commented on my new friend. In fact, Leif regarded the bat with an intensely thoughtful expression.

The others waited. A moment passed until I realized they waited for me to begin. To make the decisions. To set events into motion. Even after leaving them as prisoners of the Commander, they still looked to me. And this time, instead of backing down and pushing them away, I accepted the responsibility. Accepted the fact that they might be hurt or killed, and understood my life would be given in exchange for keeping the Fire Warper from returning.

“Leif,” I said.

He jumped as if bitten.

“I want you and Moon Man to get into the Council Hall’s library and find everything you can about a tunnel into the Keep.” I explained Bain’s comments. “Moon Man can disguise himself as a Vermin and hopefully you won’t be caught. Do not use magic at all from now on. It will only draw them to you.”

Moon Man and Leif nodded.

“Marrok?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you able to fight?”

“Ready, willing and able, sir.”

I paused, swallowing a sudden knot in my throat. By their determined expressions, I knew they were all willing. At least Valek’s smug smile was better than hearing him say, I told you so.

“Good. Marrok and Tauno will accompany Valek and me. We’ll go south to rescue the hostages.”

Ari cleared his throat as if he wanted to protest.

“I haven’t forgotten about you two. I need you to go into the Citadel and help organize the resistance.”

“Resistance?” Valek asked. “I hadn’t heard.”

“I put an idea into a merchant’s head, and, I think if Ari and Janco disguised themselves as traders, they could move about the Citadel. Ari will have to dye his hair. Oh, and find a boy named Fisk. Tell him you’re my friend and he’ll help you make contacts.”

“And when and where, Oh mighty Yelena, do we resist?” Janco asked.

“At the Keep’s gates. As for when, I don’t know, but something will happen and you’ll know.”

Janco and Ari exchanged a look. “Gotta love the confidence,” Janco said.

“And when do we start, love?”

“Everyone get a good night’s sleep and we’ll begin preparations in the morning. We’ll leave early. Do you have enough disguises for four of us or do we need to get supplies? Money?”

Valek smiled. “You mean raid some laundry lines? Steal a couple purses? No. My safe houses are well stocked with all types of items.”

Leif was the only one to be alarmed by his statement.

The room erupted with the noise of multiple conversations. Plans were made and actions decided. Tauno’s unhappiness at being separated from Moon Man became apparent. He asked why we wanted him. I explained about needing a good scout.

“What about Marrok?” he asked.

“We need him just in case they’ve moved the captives. He can track them to the new location.” Also I wanted to talk to Marrok and find out why he had accused Leif and me of helping Ferde escape.

The next morning, my group saddled the horses. Since we wouldn’t be crossing the Avibian Plains, Valek rode Onyx, Tauno sat on Garnet and Marrok rode Topaz. Valek had used his skills to transform us into members of the Krystal Clan. We wore the light gray tunics and dark woolen leggings that the clan preferred, which matched the short hooded capes and black knee-high boots.

Before we left, Leif handed me a bunch of his herbs. “Since you can’t use your magic, you might want to have them. There are directions on how to use each one inside the packet.”

“Leif, I’m—”

“I know. Truthfully, I didn’t like the distrustful and mean person you became in Ixia. The fire brought my real sister back. So be careful, as I’d like to keep her around for a while.”

“You take care, too. Don’t get caught. I wouldn’t want to tell Mother about it. She wouldn’t be pleased.”

Leif looked at Ari and Janco. They fought over who would drive the wagon and who would guard. “Do they always argue?”

I laughed. “It’s part of their appeal.”

Leif sighed. “I’m amazed we made it to Sitia without being discovered.” He paused and considered. “I think I’m actually going to miss them.”

“I always do.”

We set a time and place for everyone to rendezvous, knowing the cottage would no longer be safe. I said goodbye to Leif and the others and we headed west, hoping to reach the Krystal Clan’s border by nightfall. We would follow the border south to the Stormdance lands. Then cross through Stormdance and Bloodgood before reaching Jewelrose’s border.

Should anyone stop us on the road, we concocted a cover story. We were delivering samples of quartz to the Jewelrose Clan. Irys’s clan cut and polished gems and stones of all types. They designed and produced almost all the jewelry in Sitia.

Disguised as a man, I used the name Ellion, and asked everyone to call me by that name.

The day turned warm in the bright sunshine and we set a quick pace. Valek hoped the temperate weather would draw people onto the roads.

“Why?” Tauno asked.

“Then we will be one of many instead of the only ones,” Valek explained. They rode together and talked about how best to find the barn that held the Councilors’ family members.

Kiki stayed beside Topaz. She had missed his company and I wondered if Cahil mourned the loss of his horse. They had been together since Cahil was young. My eyes rested on Garnet. I cringed when I imagined facing the Stable Master’s wrath. Garnet had been with us so long and I had lost the Avibian honey I had bought to appease the Stable Master. He would make me clean tack and scrub stalls for weeks. I snorted with amusement. I had found one positive thing about spending eternity with the Fire Warper: no mucking out.

And no bat. My new friend hung from the edge of my hood. His weight rested comfortably in the small of my back. He seemed content to sleep away the daylight hours with me.

Marrok remained quiet throughout the day, but I wanted to know what had happened to him at the Citadel.

“Cahil tricked me,” he said when I asked. “I fell for his lies about remaining with Ferde to discover the extent of the Daviians’ operations. Applauded his plan to lure Ferde back to the Citadel. Commiserated over your ill-timed interference. He convinced me to confess and name you and Leif as accomplices. It would help him persuade the Council to attack Ixia. He promised…” Marrok paused, rubbing a hand along his right cheek. “After I confessed, he turned on me. A mistake I paid for…” He shuddered. “Am still paying for.”

“Betrayals are brutal,” I agreed.

Marrok looked at me in surprise. “Don’t you think leaving us in Ixia was a betrayal?”

“No. That wasn’t my intention. I wanted to protect you and was honest with all of you from the start. I just wasn’t honest with myself. A mistake.”

“You’re still paying for?” Marrok smiled. The gesture smoothed out the lines of worry and time on his rugged face, erasing years from his age.

“Yes. It’s the problem with mistakes, they tend to linger. But once we’re done with the Vermin and Cahil, I will have paid for all my mistakes. In full.”

Marrok gave me a questioning glance, but I didn’t want to elaborate. Instead, I asked, “Do you remember your rescue from the Citadel?”

He grinned ruefully. “Sorry, no. At the time, I was in no condition to think. Moon Man is a wonder. I owe him my life.” He glanced around then lowered his voice. “Being here without him, I feel…fragile. And that’s hard for an old soldier to admit.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence. Around midnight we set up camp. Funny how we automatically attended to the chores without discussion. Tauno hunted for rabbits and I cared for the horses. Valek searched for firewood and Marrok prepared the meal.

“I’m used to soldiers’ rations on the road, so don’t expect this to taste like Leif’s,” Marrok said as he dished out his version of rabbit stew.

The stew tasted a little bland but filled our stomachs. After dinner, we arranged our sleeping mats and set a watch schedule. I shared a blanket with Valek, wanting to be near him. I clutched him tight.

“What’s the matter, love,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re rarely this quiet.”

“Just worried about the Councilors’ families.”

“I think we have things well in hand. Between my sleeping potion for the guards, your Curare for the Warpers and the element of surprise, we should rescue them in no time.”

“But what if one of the captives is sick? Or dying? If I use my magic, I risk letting the Vermin know where I am and what I’ve been doing.”

“Then you’ll have to decide what is more important—one person’s life or the success of the mission for Sitia’s future. It’s pointless to worry. Instead, use your energy to decide how you would react to each contingency you can imagine. It’s more prudent to prepare for all possibilities than fret.”

He was right. Eventually, I slept.

Shadows haunted my sleep. They roamed the shadow world, lost and afraid. Whenever the bright heat would appear, they hid and waited for the hot hunter to dissipate. Each time, the hunter captured more of them in his net of fire. They didn’t understand why he came and they knew nothing about the bridge to the sky. They clung to this world, desiring revenge and justice. The shadows needed a guide to convince them to let go and to show them the way.

“Ellion…Ellion…Yelena! Wake up.”

I pushed the arm away, wanting to roll over. “Tired,” I mumbled.

“Yes, we all are. But it’s your turn,” Valek said.

I blinked. My eyelids would not stay open.

“There’s a pot of tea on the fire.” When I failed to move, Valek pushed me off the mat and curled in my place under the covers. “Ahh. Still warm.”

“You’re evil,” I said, but he feigned sleep.

We had been on the road for the past four days, riding every minute we could to turn a seven-day journey into five days. And since Tauno had left before dinner to scout the area ahead, we had one less to guard the camp.

My bat swooped over the rising heat of the fire. He’d been staying with me during the day and hunting food at night. I longed to fly with him, soaring over the ground.

Tauno returned the next morning to report no signs of activity along our path to the Jewelrose border. “There is a good site to camp about two miles south of the border,” he said. “I will join you there.” He left.

I wondered what had kept him awake. Unlike Tauno, I had had a few hours’ sleep last night. Perhaps I shouldn’t complain anymore.

We packed and followed Tauno’s trail. Another uneventful day and we found the camp location without any problems. Tauno reappeared with dinner hanging from his belt.

“I discovered the location of the barn,” he said, while butchering the rabbits. “It is four miles west of here in a little hollow.”

Valek quizzed him for the details. “We’ll have to strike in the dark,” he said. “We’ll go after midnight, leave the horses in the trees and then attack.”

Tauno agreed. He cubed the meat and dropped it into the pot. “I will sleep, then.”

While Marrok stirred the stew, Valek prepped the reed pipes and I saddled the horses. Garnet sighed when I cinched his straps tight.

“It’s not far,” I said aloud. “Then you can rest.”

I joined Marrok and Valek where they sat by the fire. They ate their stew and I filled a bowl for me. The broth tasted better; there was a hint of spice.

“This is good,” I said to Marrok. “I think you’re getting the hang of it. What did you add?”

“A new ingredient. Can you tell what it is?”

When I sampled another spoonful, I rolled the liquid around my mouth before swallowing. The aftertaste reminded me of Rand’s favorite cookie recipe. “Ginger?”

Valek dropped his stew. He jumped to his feet but stumbled. A look of horror creased his forehead. “Butter root!”

“Poison?”

“No.” He sank to his knees. “Sleeping draft.”

29

VALEK COLLAPSED ONTO the ground. But just before he closed his eyes, he winked at me. I glanced around. Marrok hunched over his bowl, appearing to be asleep. A bone-deep fatigue spread throughout my body, but I remained awake. Perhaps I hadn’t swallowed enough butter root.

Not wanting to be caught “aware,” I pulled my switchblade and hid the weapon in the palm of my hand with my thumb resting on the button. Slumping over, I let my upper body fall to the side. The stew spilled off my lap and onto the ground, soaking into my pants. Great.

I feigned sleep. My muscles stiffened and the cold seeped into my skin. Trying not to shiver, I strained to hear any noise to give me a hint of what was going on.

The horses whinnied in alarm and I opened my mind to Kiki for the first time in days, hoping the tiny use of my magic wouldn’t alert anyone.

Bad smell, she said. Quiet Man tied reins.

Quiet Man?

She huffed and showed me an image of Tauno.

Why would he do that?

Ask Garnet.

Where did you go today, Garnet? I asked.

See people. Smell fear.

I cut off the connection when voices approached.

“So easy! All the talk about the Soulfinder and the Ghost Warrior and look at them! Sleeping like babies,” a male voice said.

“Trust is a powerful ally. Right, Tauno?” a female voice asked. She had the same lilt as a Sandseed.

Was Tauno in league with them? Or had they captured him today and forced him to help them?

“Yes. And trust is blind. No one suspected me even after the ambush in the plains.” He laughed. “Trust is for stupid people. Even the Sandseed Elders had no idea. My ability to find the Daviian camps amazed them.”

They chuckled, enjoying themselves. Anger seethed in my blood. Tauno could trust I would make him regret his actions.

As they decided what to do, I counted four distinct voices. Two men and one woman plus the traitor Tauno. They planned to use Marrok to appease the Council, and bring me to their leader, Jal.

“Kill the Ghost Warrior,” one of the Vermin ordered. “Make sure you cut his throat and collect his blood. It will be just revenge for Alea and her brother.”

I waited. Arms wrapped around my chest and another set around my ankles. They lifted me off the ground.

“Now!” Valek yelled.

I triggered my switchblade and yanked my knees toward my chest, pulling the surprised Vermin holding my feet into my knife. Hot blood gushed onto my hands. I wrenched the blade out of his stomach before the other Vermin dropped me onto the ground. I scrambled to my feet as he pulled his scimitar.

Switchblade against scimitar. Bad odds. And I had used the Curare on my weapon on the first man. This wouldn’t be a long fight. I glanced at Valek. He fought Tauno and the woman. His sword against their spears. Better odds. I hoped I could last long enough for Valek to help me.

“Drop your weapon,” the Vermin ordered me.

When I didn’t obey, the man swung and I dodged to the side. He lunged. I backed away. He swiped at my neck. I ducked. He hacked and I danced.

Winded with the effort, the Vermin said, “You will not be harmed if you surrender.”

After another attack, I realized what he was doing. “You’re not allowed to kill me,” I said. “Jal wants me alive so he can feed me to his pet Fire Warper!”

My smugness infuriated him. He increased the pace of his swings. Bad decision.

“I can still hurt you. Bleed you. Torture you.”

His blade sliced through my cape. I stepped back as blood welled from the slash along my arm. Really bad decision. He advanced. I retreated. His scimitar found more open areas and soon my arms and legs were crisscrossed with bleeding cuts. I felt light-headed and my feet moved with an unusual slowness. My energy drained at an alarming rate.

My bat appeared. He flew at the Vermin, diving and pulling his hair. The Vermin flailed his arms, giving me an opening, but my switchblade felt so heavy and my body reacted too slowly. The Vermin must be a strong Warper. He had weakened my mental defenses without my notice.

The Warper stared at the bat and the poor creature crashed to the ground.

“Is that all you have?” he asked. “What about your great soul magic? I think the Fire Warper will be disappointed.” He shrugged. “Orders are orders.”

He swung his weapon. My arms moved, but couldn’t block the hilt of his scimitar from striking my temple.

My vision blurred as I crumpled to the ground. The world spun. I rolled away from the Warper. When I reached Kiki’s hooves, I let the blackness claim me.

A hammer pounded on the side of my skull. Wake up, it pounded. Open your eyes. More hammering. I refused. The next time, a dull throb intruded on my oblivion. Come on, it pulsed. Open your eyes. Please.

I woke, feeling like a cutting board. My arms and legs burned with pain and my head hurt. Valek hunched over me, pouring water on my cuts, inflaming them.

“Ow! Stop that,” I said.

“Finally,” he said. But he didn’t stop. He dabbed at them, cleaning the lacerations, and sat back on his heels. “That’ll have to do for now. Come on. We need to go.”

When I failed to move, he pulled me into a sitting position. A wave of nausea swelled.

“Here.” He thrust red leaves into my hands. “I found them in your saddlebags. The note said to eat them for head pain.”

I chewed one. My stomach settled, but my sight remained blurry. I peered into the semidarkness, assuming the fuzzy white blob in the sky meant the moon had risen. Had I slept all day? Valek’s words finally sank in.

“Go where?” I asked.

Valek yanked me to my feet. “We need to find the barn.”

My thoughts still moved as if coated with sap. “Barn?”

Valek shook the rest of the canteen’s water onto my shorn head. A jolt went through me when the cold breeze hit my wet skull.

“When the Vermin don’t come back with us, the others will know something has happened and will either kill their hostages or move to another location.” Valek ennunciated each word as if speaking to a simpleton. “Here.” He handed me a set of clothes. “Hurry.”

I changed. The carnage around our campsite made me sick and I sucked on another red leaf. Valek had killed the woman and Tauno. Traitor! Marrok remained where he had fallen asleep. And the Warper lay on his side. His head looked misshapen, as if kicked by a horse.

Kiki? I asked.

Bad man. No one hurt Lavender Lady.

Thanks.

Peppermints?

When we’re done. And apples, too!

I wore my coral-colored shirt and matching skirt/pants. They reflected the moonlight. No hope for me to blend in. Valek dressed in the Warper’s clothes and he applied makeup to match the Warper’s skin tone. Fear twirled up my spine as I figured out what he planned. At least, I wasn’t going to be bait for a necklace snake. This time.

We untied the other horses. The smell of blood made them skittish, and they were happy to leave despite being tired. Valek and I rode Kiki and Onyx while leading the others. We traveled the four miles to the barn in silence. Approaching the edge of the woods with care, I strained to see a sign of the Vermin hideout. An eerie red glow shimmered above Diamond Lake. The small structure looked deserted, but after a moment, the figures guarding the doors became visible.

“Which horse?” I asked.

“Onyx. Kiki is too well-known.”

I dismounted and told the horses to stay in the woods until I called.

“Take off your cape,” Valek said. “Lie in front of me.” He took his foot from the stirrup.

I pulled myself up and lay across the saddle. He handed me my switchblade. The weapon had been cleaned and the blade was retracted.

“It’s been primed with Curare.” Valek grabbed the reins with his left hand and held a scimitar in his right.

“Pretend to be unconscious,” he ordered as he clicked at Onyx.

We entered the open area, hopefully appearing as the Warper coming back with his prize.

Feigning to be a dead weight, I bounced on Onyx’s saddle. The motion made me nauseous. A whoop of joy cut through the air as we neared. I prepared for Valek’s signal.

“Where are the others?” a male voice asked.

“They’re coming,” Valek said in a rough tone.

“Finally! We have her!” another man said as he tugged my legs. “Help me.”

Valek slid off on the opposite side of the saddle, keeping Onyx between him and the Vermin.

Another person joined in pulling me off. “We’ll keep her asleep until she reaches Jal. Get the wagon, you’ll leave tonight,” the man ordered. He cradled me in his arms.

“Where is Jal?” Valek asked.

The man froze and I risked a peek. The tip of Valek’s scimitar touched the Vermin’s neck. Although armed with his own scimitar and a spear strapped to his back, the Vermin’s hands held me.

“At the Magician’s Keep. Go ahead and find Jal. Just make sure to take her with you.” The man tossed me at Valek and yelled for help.

At that close distance, even Valek couldn’t dodge out of the way. I hit him in the chest. We tumbled to the ground, but I kept going until I cleared his body. Jumping to my feet, I spun in time to see Valek rolling away to avoid being sliced by the Vermin’s blade.

Four more Vermin with weapons drawn ran toward us.

I triggered my switchblade and threw it at the Vermin attacking Valek. He grunted when the blade nicked his shoulder, but he didn’t stop. However, the Curare on my blade spread throughout his body and paralyzed his muscles. I grabbed the man’s spear. Valek regained his feet and his weapon.

A mere second later, the others reached us.

Events blurred into one long fight. I used the spear’s length to my advantage, keeping the scimitars from reaching me. After a fake to the midsection, I swept my opponent’s feet out from under him. I didn’t hesitate to plunge the tip of the spear into his neck. His soul rose from his body and hovered above it. Should I help his soul?

Before I could decide, another man approached. But he stopped and I felt strands of magic tug at my spear. A Warper who could move objects. The spear flew from my grasp, turned and pointed straight at me.

“Jal wants me alive.” I reminded him.

He advanced. “Why not use your power to stop me? Afraid the Fire Warper will tell Jal what you’re doing?”

“Give the man a prize. Your intellect is truly amazing.”

The spear’s tip came closer and poked me in the hollow of my throat. “Surrender or I’ll skewer her,” the Warper called to Valek.

Valek disengaged, his gaze questioning.

“He won’t do it,” I said to Valek.

“You are right. How about surrender or I will set the barn on fire?” The Warper pointed to the building. “Do you want to be responsible for the deaths of ten children?”

30

“NO! DON’T,” I YELLED. “Let the children go and I’ll come with you.”

“I know you will,” the Warper said. “I am more concerned about the Ghost Warrior.” He looked at Valek. “Put your weapon down.”

Valek placed his scimitar on the ground, but as he straightened, he flicked his hand twice. A small dart pricked the Warper’s neck. The man jerked in surprise.

“Move,” Valek ordered.

I twisted, avoiding the spear’s thrust, but I wasn’t fast enough to stop the sharp edge from cutting a gash across my neck. A line of stinging pain registered in my mind. It was forgotten as soon as I saw the Warper turn. Fire erupted under the barn’s door. He collapsed beside his colleague, finally overcome by Valek’s sleeping potion.

Smoke reached my nose, igniting memories of dread and fear.

“Valek, go!” I waved him on and whistled for the horses.

They came and I raced toward the barn. Kiki help! I said.

Valek had gotten the burning door opened, but flames crept toward the roof. Topaz and Onyx shied away from the acrid smoke, but Kiki and Garnet braved the heat.

“Tell them to move to the left side,” I yelled to Valek over the roar.

He sprinted through the opening and I led Kiki and Garnet to the right side. I waited for two horrible seconds then banged on the barn’s wall.

Kiki. Garnet. Kick. I dived to the side. The animals aimed their back hooves and punched a hole in the wall with their powerful legs.

When the opening was big enough for the adults, I stopped the horses. Pulling a few splintered boards clear, I looked inside and called to the captives. Even with the bright firelight, the room was obscured by smoke. But a person grabbed my hand. I pulled coughing children through the hole, counting them as they came out.

The smoke thickened and the inferno advanced.

When Councilor Greenblade’s husband crawled out with a small child clinging to his back and a baby clutched to his chest, my count totaled ten children and one adult.

“Where’s Gale?” I asked.

Hacking with the effort to expel the smoke from his lungs, he pointed through the opening. “Collapsed.” He wheezed for air. “Couldn’t take…them all.”

I moved to go in, but he pulled me back.

“Roof.” He coughed.

We shooed the children away from the barn mere moments before the roof buckled with a shower of sparks and an explosion of sound.

I counted children again. Ten. One adult. No Gale. No Valek. He was still in the barn!

Horror and anguish twisted around my throat and shredded my heart. I bolted toward the blazing building. The heat rolled off the structure, pushing me back. Roof beams had fallen on top of the Vermin. The flames lapped at their bodies and sucked their souls into the inferno.

A porthole into the fire world opened in front of me. I could have grabbed one of the Vermin’s souls and returned to the Fire Warper. But I wasn’t ready. I had a few more things to accomplish and a few goodbyes to make before I embraced the fire.

Then I would crave the fire. Living in this world without Valek held no appeal for me.

The blaze raged all night. By morning it settled into a large smoldering heap. Still too hot for me to search among the ruins for some sign of Valek or Gale. Instead, I led the children over to Diamond Lake to get cleaned up and tried to ignore the grief burning inside me.

Councilor Greenblade’s husband, Kell, helped feed the children and tend their wounds. Kiki and Garnet drank from the lake, and I washed the soot from their coats. The water was clear. The red color came from the bottom of the lake as if someone had painted the rocks and gravel. Perhaps they had. After all, it was a man-made lake.

When everyone’s needs were met, we headed back to the campsite. We found Marrok engaged in the grim task of burying bodies.

“Guess I slept through the battle,” he said. “Did we win?” He inclined his head to Tauno. “Or lose?”

“Both,” I said. My anguish over Valek threatened to push from my throat. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood.

“Care to explain?”

I filled him in on what had happened. He accepted Tauno’s betrayal with a cynical snort and a wry twist of the lips that reflected his black thoughts about trust.

After I finished, he said, “At least your little friend is all right.”

“Friend?”

He pointed to a nearby tree. “I thought he was dead, but when I went to pick him up he flew off. Scared the heck out of me.”

I went over. My bat hung upside down on a low branch. The creature opened an eye halfway then closed it again, contented. Somehow I had created an emotional link with the bat that was similar to my link with Kiki.

Contemplation about my affinity for animals would have to wait, though. More pressing matters needed to be addressed—finding Valek’s body, for one. But I said, “We have to find a safe place for the Councilors’ family members.”

Bavol Zaltana’s daughter, Jenniqilla, pulled at my cape. “I want to go home,” she said. Although happy to be free, sadness touched her eyes and weariness lined her young face.

I crouched down next to her. “I know, but I need you to pretend you’re still a hostage for just a little while longer. It’s really important. Can you help us out?”

Determination filled her eyes, reminding me of Fisk. I assigned all the older children small jobs, and they moved about with a renewed sense of purpose.

“What about me?” Kell Greenblade asked.

The Greenblade lands were east of Bloodgood’s. “Do you know anyplace where we can hide all of you?”

He gazed off into the distance. Tall and wiry, he resembled my friend, Dax, another member of his clan. I hoped Dax and Gelsi were all right, and the thought of them being the next victims of the Kirakawa ritual made me restless to get moving.

Kell sensed my mood. His attention focused on me. “My sister has a farm outside of Booruby that could hold all of us.”

“In the Cowan Clan’s lands?”

“Yes.” He tsked. “She married a flatlander, but he’s a good man and will help us.”

I looked at the ragtag group of children. Booruby was farther east than I had wanted to travel and it would be a slow trip.

Kiki nickered at me. Get wagon, she said.

The wagon was burned in the fire.

I felt her huff of impatience. Horses run off. Take wagon.

Where are they?

Stuck. Come. Kiki flicked her tail.

Marrok came with me. We mounted Kiki and she went southwest through a small wood.

What about Onyx and Topaz? I asked her.

I felt her sorrow. Can’t smell.

We reached the wagon. When the fire had erupted, the panicked horses had bolted through the woods until the cart wedged between two trees. The animals had calmed, but their raised heads and alert ears meant they felt unsafe.

The wagon had been filled with empty coffin-shaped crates, but we found a toolbox underneath the floor. Getting the wagon free was difficult and time-consuming.

While fixing the broken wheel, Marrok lost his patience and shooed me away. “You’re rushing and making it worse. Go take a walk, Yelena. This is a one-person job anyway.”

When I hesitated, he added, “Go look for him or you won’t find peace. And we won’t either.”

Being busy had been good. Walking through the quiet forest, there was nothing to distract me from my flaming thoughts. No respite from the wrenching pain deep inside me. It felt as if I had swallowed a red-hot coal.

The barn’s ashy remains drifted in the air. Only a few beams at the edge of the structure retained their shape. Everything else had been reduced to gray and white cinders. Smoke curled from a few hot spots, but otherwise a pine-scented breeze blew the acrid fumes away.

The crunch of my boots on the residue echoed a lonely and final sound in my ears. All hope disappeared when I found Valek’s knives. Blackened and misshapen, the blades were half-melted. I collapsed to my hands and knees and sobbed, turning the ash under me into slurry. Gasping, ribs aching and throat raw, I tried to expel the smoldering sadness within, only stopping when all moisture was gone from my body. I sat back on my heels and wiped my face, smearing soot and tears.

Once my breathing returned to normal, I scooped up a handful of the ash near Valek’s weapons and let the wind scatter them. Soon, love. I’ll join you soon. The knowledge of our reunion in the other world was my only comfort.

Eventually I returned to Marrok. He had fixed the wheel. After looking at my face, he squeezed my shoulder. I had washed off the dirt, but I knew my eyes were red and puffy from crying.

Marrok steered the wagon, but finding a road around the wood used up our remaining daylight.

By the time we returned to the camp, Kell had settled the children next to the fire. I wanted to wake everyone and get moving, but Kell convinced me the children would be upset by being roused and hidden in those crates at night. After recalling my own horrible experience with the boxes, I agreed.

If Valek hadn’t shot the Warper, I would have been shoved inside one of those crates. The Councilors’ families would still be hostages, but Valek and Gale would still be alive.

I stared at the sleeping children. Jenniqilla had a protective arm over Leevi and the baby curled next to him, sucking on his thumb even while asleep. In that state, they embodied innocence and peace and joy and love. Valek had known the risk when he went into the barn and he hadn’t hesitated. I would have done the same. Eleven living beings for one unselfish act. Pretty good odds.

Even with the wagon, the trip to Booruby lasted four days. Four days of worry, frustration, hunger, sleepless nights and noise. By the time we arrived, I had a new appreciation for parents, and was as glad to see Kell’s sister as she was to see us. She wrapped Kell in a tight embrace for many heartbeats. I bit my lip and turned away. My empty arms ached.

Located about two miles south of Booruby, the farmstead appeared to be isolated from its neighbors, but her husband was quick to usher us inside. The children were fed their first hot meal in weeks. Marrok and I made plans to return to the rendezvous location to join the others. I kept my mind focused on action; otherwise, I knew I would surrender to the grief consuming me from the inside out.

We would risk crossing through the western edge of the Avibian Plains. Garnet and Kiki’s gust-of-wind gait would make up for the time lost traveling to Booruby.

Before leaving, Kell asked me, “How will I know when it’s safe for the children to return home?”

I considered. “If everything works out, you will receive a message.”

“And if it doesn’t work out?”

Emotion choked his words, reminding me that his wife was one of the Councilors. If I failed, she would be among the first of many casualties.

“If you don’t hear anything after fourteen days, that means the Daviians are in charge. Send the children to their homes and hope.”

“Hope for what?”

“Hope a person in the future will be strong enough to rebel against the Daviian Vermin. And win.”

Kell looked doubtful. “We have four Master Magicians and a Soulfinder, yet they still managed to take control.”

“It has happened before. One person can bring peace to Sitia.”

I didn’t add that the man had leveled the Daviian Mountains in the process. But it did lead me to wonder if the Sandseeds’ legendary warrior had had help. My mind reviewed Moon Man’s story about the origins of the Sandseed Clan and I remembered the warrior’s name was Guyan. Guyan had imprisoned the Fire Warper, and his descendant, Gede, had freed him. A complete circle.

Marrok and I said goodbye to Kell and the children. We traveled northwest, planning to skirt Booruby on our way to the plains. My little bat hung from Kiki’s mane and didn’t appear to be bothered by the jostling motion.

Our plans changed when I spotted Opal’s family’s glass factory in the distance and I had a sudden idea.

Before I could fully explore my intentions, we stopped outside their gate. Marrok accepted our detour without concern.

“Should I wait here?” he asked.

“Yes. I won’t be long.” I left Kiki with him.

As I approached the door to their house, Opal came out of the factory. She hesitated, but drew nearer, eyeing Marrok and me with suspicion.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked me.

I had forgotten all about my hair. At least I knew my disguise worked. I smiled for the first time in days.

She squinted at me. “Yelena?” Then she glanced around in concern. “Come inside! There’s a price on your head!” She ushered me into the house.

“Thank goodness you’re okay.” Opal squeezed me in a quick hug. “What happened to your hair?”

“It’s a long long story. Is your family around?”

“No. They went into town. Father received a shipment of sand that was full of rocks so he went to complain and Mother—”

“Opal, I need more of your glass animals.”

“Really? Did you sell the bat?”

“No. However, I discovered I can use your animals to communicate with other magicians far away without using my own magic. I’d like to buy as many as I can.”

“Wow! I never knew.”

“How many do you have?”

“Six. They’re in the factory.”

She set a quick pace as we crossed the yard and entered the factory. The heat from the kilns sucked all the moisture from my mouth. I followed her through the thick air and roar of the fires. Lined up on a table by the back wall were half a dozen glass animals. They all glowed with an inner fire.

Opal wrapped the animals and I counted out coins. Another idea flashed in my mind when she handed me the package.

“Can you show me how you make these?” I asked.

“It takes a lot of practice to learn.”

I shook my head. “I just want to watch you make one.”

She agreed. Picking up a five-foot-long hollow steel pipe, she opened the small door to the kiln. Bright orange light and intense heat emanated from the doorway, but, undaunted, she dipped the end of the pipe into a large ceramic pot inside the kiln that was filled with molten glass. Turning the pipe, she gathered a taffylike slug and pulled it out, closing the door with her hip. The slug pulsed with a red-hot light as if alive.

“You have to keep the blowpipe spinning or the glass will sag,” Opal said over the noise. She rolled the slug over a metal table to move the glass off the end of the pipe and shaped it so the pipe looked as if it had a clear ball attached to its end.

Her motions quick, Opal then rested the pipe on the edge of the table and blew into the other end. Magic brushed my arm as her cheeks puffed. The glass on the opposite end didn’t inflate with air. Instead, a thread of magic was trapped within its core.

“It’s supposed to expand, but mine never does,” she said as she went back to the kiln and gathered another slug overtop the first. She took the pipe to a bench designed to hold it and other metal tools needed to shape the glass. Buckets of water sat within easy reach.

Opal grabbed a pair of steel tweezers and pinched and squeezed the slug with her right hand while rolling the pipe with her left hand the whole time. “You have to move quickly because it cools fast.”

Within seconds the ball transformed into a cat sitting on its back legs. She stood and put the cat back into the kiln, but this time she just spun the pipe above the pot. “You have to keep plenty of heat in the glass or you can’t work with it.”

Sitting back on her bench, Opal exchanged her tweezers for another set. These were bigger and as long as her forearm. “Jacks, a great all-purpose tool. I’m putting in a jack line so I can crack the piece off the pipe.”

When the groove was to her liking, she took the tweezers in hand again and dipped them into the bucket of water. She dribbled a few drops into the jack line. “You have to be careful not to get water onto your piece. So you move from the pipe down.” The glass hissed and a spiderweb of cracks spread over the glass on the pipe.

She carried the pipe to another oven close to the kilns. Shelves of trays had been stacked inside and Opal banged the end of the tweezers on her pipe. The cat fell onto the tray. She closed the door.

“If the glass cools too fast, it’ll crack. This is an annealing oven.” Opal pointed to the tracks underneath the oven. “To slowly cool the piece, the oven is pulled away from the kiln over the next twelve hours.”

“Why do you blow into the pipe if the glass doesn’t expand for you?” I asked.

“It’s a step I have to do.” She made a vague motion with her arms as if casting about for the right words. “When Mara does it, she makes beautiful vases and bottles. Mine always ends up looking like an animal and if I don’t blow into the pipe it doesn’t look like anything at all.”

She cleaned up her work area, taking the tools from the water and drying them before replacing them. The bench needed to be ready for the next project, and working with glass didn’t give you time to search for tools.

“I love creating things. There’s nothing like it,” she said, more to herself than to me. “Working the glass. Turning fire into ice.”

I thanked Opal for her demonstration and rejoined Marrok. He leaned against Garnet.

“I think your definition of ‘won’t be long’ doesn’t match mine,” he said by way of a greeting. “Did you encounter another change in plans?”

“Yes. You might as well get used to them.”

“Yes, sir!” He grinned.

“Sarcasm? You’ve been hanging around with Leif too long. What happened to the tough old soldier who mindlessly follows orders?”

His demeanor sobered. “He lost his mind. And when he found it again, his priorities had all been rearranged.”

“For the better?”

“Only time will tell.”

We mounted and headed to the western edge of the Avibian Plains. Once in the plains, Kiki and Garnet broke into their gust-of-wind gaits and flowed over many miles. We camped outside the plains at night. I hoped our passage wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention. My thoughts lingered on Opal’s glassmaking skills. Better than giving in to the deep despair that threatened to overwhelm me whenever I thought of Valek.

Our journey to the rendezvous location lasted three days. During that time, Marrok had spotted signs of a large army that had crossed from the Avibian Plains and turned north toward the Citadel. At night, the glow of many fires lit the distant sky and wood smoke tainted the air.

We had agreed to meet Moon Man and the others in Owl’s Hill, a small town within the Featherstone lands. According to Leif, the Cloverleaf Inn’s owner could be trusted not to report us. “He owes me one,” had been Leif’s explanation.

Owl’s Hill was located on a small rise about three miles northeast of the Citadel. The four towers of the Magician’s Keep were visible from the road into town. A bright orange radiance shone from within the Keep’s walls. The Fire Warper’s home fire?

Still disguised as Krystal Clan traders, Marrok and I entered the town. Situated near the main crossroads, the Cloverleaf Inn’s common room bustled with activity, but the stable was only half full. The stable lad suggested we arrive early for dinner as the inn was a popular stop for caravans.

“One less night of road rations,” the boy said as he helped me rub down Kiki. “And the merchants prefer camping near here instead of overnighting in the Citadel.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“The rumors have been wild, so I don’t know what to believe. But the merchants who do come back say everyone is afraid of these new Daviians and they say the Daviians have convinced the Council to prepare for a war.”

“With Ixia?”

“Don’t know. They’ve drafted every able-bodied person. Benn said the Daviians are in league with Ixia, and once a person’s drafted they hypnotize him. They plan to use them in the army to turn Sitia into another Ixian Military District. MD-9!”

The boy regaled me with even wilder speculation. I knew the Commander wasn’t in league with the Daviians, but the possibility of using the Sitian army against Sitia sounded like a Vermin tactic.

When we finished with the horses, I entered the inn. Marrok had already paid for two rooms for the night.

“We’re running out of money,” he said.

“Are the others here?” I asked.

“Ari and Janco are in the dining room. Leif and Moon Man haven’t arrived yet.”

That worried me. It had been thirteen days since we had left to rescue the hostages. Plenty of time for them to discover anything about the Keep’s emergency tunnel.

In the back corner of the inn’s common room, Ari and Janco held court. Drinking from tankards of ale, they were surrounded by a group of merchants. Serious expressions gripped all their faces and they peered at us with suspicion.

Marrok and I picked a table on the far side of the room. Eventually, the knot of people disbanded and Ari and Janco joined us. Ari had dyed his hair black and both of them had darkened their skin.

“Janco, do I see freckles?” I asked, failing to suppress a snicker.

“Don’t laugh. It’s this southern sun. It’s the middle of the cold season and it’s sunny! Bah.” He looked at me. “Although, I’d rather have freckles than be bald!”

I put my hand to my hair. “It’s growing.”

“Enough,” Ari said, and the mood around our table immediately dampened. “Were you successful?”

The question stabbed into me as if his words were flaming daggers. I struggled to collect my thoughts; to shoo my emotions away from the black, burning grief that refused to die down. Marrok saw my inability to answer and he told them about Tauno, the rescue and about Valek. To see my pain and shock reflected in my friends’ eyes became unbearable. I excused myself and went outside.

Taking deep breaths of the cool night air, I wandered through the town. A few people walked along the dirt streets, carrying lanterns. I felt a tug on my cape as my bat landed on my arm. He stared at me with a sense of purpose in his eyes then flew off to the left. He returned, swooping around my head and again flew to the left. Getting the hint, I followed him until we reached a dilapidated building.

The bat settled on the roof as if waiting. I pulled the warped door open with trepidation, but the interior held a collection of discarded barrels and broken wagon wheels. When I turned to leave, I stepped on a wooden ball. A child’s toy. I picked it up and examined it. My bat wanted me to find or see something in here.

I squashed my growing frustration and concentrated on using my other senses. Closing my eyes, I inhaled. The musty smell of decay dominated, but I detected a faint whiff of lemons. I followed the clean and pure scent—not easy as I tripped and banged my shins on the clutter—until I stood in the back corner. There a tingle danced on my skin, raising the hair on my arms. Instinctively I whispered, “Reveal yourself,” and opened my eyes.

Gray light bloomed before me and transformed into a young boy. He sat on one of the barrels.

A ghost. A lost soul.

“Where is my mother?” he asked with a thin, tentative voice. “She was sick, too. She went away and never came back even when I cried for her.”

I moved closer to the boy. The light from him illuminated the room. The rusted remains of a bed frame and other items indicated the area had been used as the child’s bedroom long ago.

My bat fluttered in and circled above the boy’s head. I waved it away and muttered, “Yes, yes, I know. I get it.”

With a squeal sounding like an exasperated finally, he flew out.

I asked the child questions about his mother and family. Just as I suspected, they had lived and died here many years ago.

“I know where they are,” I said. “I can take you to them.”

The boy smiled. When I held out my hand, he grabbed it. I gathered him to me, inhaling his soul before sending it to the sky.

The true job of a Soulfinder.

Not to save souls and return them to their bodies, but to guide them to where they belonged. My true purposed flared to life finally. Stono and Gelsi should have both been released to the sky. Their personalities changed because they were unhappy at being denied peace.

Death was not the end. And I knew Valek waited for me, but he wouldn’t want to see me until I finished finding all the lost and misplaced souls and sent them to their proper destinations.

There hadn’t been a Soulfinder in over a hundred and twenty-five years. Why wasn’t Sitia filled with lost souls? Perhaps they were rare.

Renewed determination to find a way to defeat the Fire Warper spread throughout my body. I left the building and stopped. Five souls hovered in different locations along the street. The leathery flap of wings announced my bat’s arrival. He settled on my shoulder.

“Did you call them?” I asked the bat. “Or did I?” I guess I should have been more specific when I called to the boy. Either that, or now I’d learned a trick I couldn’t shut off.

I gathered and released souls as I headed back to the Cloverleaf Inn. Most went to the sky. One dripped with hate and when he sank into the ground, I worried I might have increased the Fire Warper’s powers.

Before I could enter the inn, the clatter of hooves sounded behind me. I spun in time to see Leif stop Rusalka. His panic reached me before his words.

“Moon Man,” he gasped. “Moon Man’s been captured!”

31

BACK IN THE INN’S common room, the five of us sorted through all the details we had. Moon Man had been captured that afternoon.

“We found no references to the tunnel in the Council Hall’s library,” Leif said. “We were meeting with an old magician who was hiding from the Vermin. Another had told us he had information on the construction of the Keep, but when we talked to the magician he only had vague details. He knew how to create a null shield and he taught me how to make one. I shouldn’t have tried it. The magic called the Warpers and we were attacked as we left his house.”

“How did you get away?” Janco asked.

Leif threw his hands up. “One minute we’re surrounded by Vermins, the next a group of brawling merchants and screaming children practically rolled over everyone. It was mass confusion. A man grabbed my hand and pulled me out. I hid until dark. One of the children from the Helping Guild told me Moon Man hadn’t escaped.”

“The Vermin will know we’re here,” Ari said. “We need to leave now. There’s a caravan camping about two miles north of here. We can stay with them.”

“Which way is the caravan going?” I asked Ari.

“They have a delivery in the Citadel tomorrow, and then they’re going south to the Greenblade lands. Why?”

“Oh no!” Leif said. “She’s got that look in her eyes. What are you scheming, little sister?”

“We have to get inside the Keep.”

“Impossible. There’s a bubble of protective magic around it. We couldn’t find the entrance to the tunnel. A few Warpers have gained master-level power. You’re powerful, but nowhere near their level. You’ll be caught in an instant.” Leif crossed his arms as if his statement ended the discussion.

“That’s a great idea,” I said.

“What?

I ignored Leif’s confusion. “Ari, how ready are the people in the Citadel to revolt?”

“They’re organized, have some weapons and a few magicians. What I would really like to do is run a few training sessions, but that’s not going to happen. They’re as ready as they’re going to get.”

“Would the caravan be willing to lend us one of their wagons?” I asked.

“Something could be arranged.”

Comprehension dawned in Janco’s face. “If we get you inside, can we keep the five golds?”

“Only if you get us back out again,” I said.

“I don’t like the odds,” Janco said. He brightened. “Gotta love the underdog, though.”

“There are no odds. It’s suicide,” Leif said.

“Look at it this way, Leif. It’ll put an end to our arguing,” I said.

“How?”

“We die, you’re right. You don’t die, I’m right.”

“I feel so much better now.”

Janco tsked. “Sarcasm is detrimental to the team spirit.”

Ari frowned at me. “Don’t you mean, we don’t die, Yelena?”

I didn’t answer. Valek waited on the other side. My reward.

We packed our supplies and headed out. The merchants of the caravan agreed to include us in their group and we spent most of the night preparing our wagon. When we finished with the cart’s alterations, we stood around it, discussing the plan for the next day.

“Marrok, you’ll ride Garnet. Janco can take Kiki, and Ari, you’ll drive the wagon. No matter what happens, Ari, make sure we get to the Keep’s gate,” I ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

“What about me and you?” Leif asked.

I grimaced. “We’re the cargo.” The last thing I wanted to do was get inside one of those crates again, but there was no other way. “Ari is going to use me to get us inside. He’ll demand his five golds for bringing me to the Vermin.”

“I never thought I’d miss my days as necklace snake bait,” Leif said.

“What happens once we’re inside?” Ari asked.

“That will be the signal for the Citadel’s citizens to riot, which should keep a bunch of the Vermin and Warpers busy.”

“But what about all those powerful Warpers?” Leif asked.

“Can you make a null shield?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

“When the riot starts, all the magicians will come to the Keep’s gate and help you build and maintain a null shield,” I said.

“But it won’t last long.”

“I just need a little time.”

“Time for what?”

“To get to the Fire Warper.”

Leif stared at me. “You can fight him?”

“No.”

“Tell me again why this isn’t a suicide mission.”

“I think I can stop him and keep him in the fire world. And in doing so, I think I might be able to pull some of the Warpers’ powers from them. If Bain and Irys are still alive, and if you round up as many magicians as you can, then you should be able to counter the Warpers.”

“That’s a lot of ‘ifs’ and ‘thinks,’” Janco said.

“And there’s no ‘when,’” Ari said.

“When?” Leif asked.

“When she returns. There’s a when, isn’t there, Yelena?” Ari asked.

“The only way to keep him in the fire world is if I stay, too.” The words tasted like ash in my mouth. Thinking about an event was completely different than stating it aloud. Once said, it was final. But Valek would be there and I would find him. No “if,” “think” or “when” about it.

“There has to be another way,” Leif said. “You always manage to produce ingenious plots.”

“Not this time.”

Everyone remained quiet.

I was about to suggest we all get a little sleep when Leif asked, “What if we can’t counter the Warpers?”

“Then you’d better have a person who’s unaffected by magic on your side,” a voice said from beyond the wagon.

We all looked at one another. The same question perched on everyone’s lips. A ghost voice?

“Although this time I would appreciate it if you didn’t leave me behind.” Valek stepped into view. He appeared to be solid. His angular face held annoyed amusement. The faint moonlight glinted off his bald head. He wore the brown tunic and pants of a Bloodgood clansman.

Disbelief followed surprise; I reached out to touch him. He pulled me close and my world filled with the sight, smell and feel of Valek.

Seconds, minutes, days, seasons could have passed and I wouldn’t have noticed or cared. I clung to him as if my feet dangled over a precipice. His heart beat in my ear. His blood flowed in my veins. I molded my body to his solid flesh, wanting to fuse with him and let nothing—not even air—come between us.

Relief and joy frolicked in my heart, extinguishing the smoldering grief until I remembered my promise to the Fire Warper.

Blazing sadness ignited, flooding my senses. My reward for babysitting the Fire Warper would have to wait. Better to have him here.

I gathered my resolve and calmed myself. The others moved away, leaving Valek and me alone. His lips found mine. Our souls twined. The gaping emptiness inside me filled.

He pulled away, breathless. “Easy, love.” His panting turned into a coughing fit.

“How did you survive the fire?” I asked. “The roof collapsed and you didn’t…”

“Two things happened at once. At least, I think they did.” He gave me an ironic smile. “I was carrying Gale when the roof fell. The force of it sent us through the floor and into a small root cellar.” Valek rubbed his ribs and grimaced.

“You’re hurt and I can’t heal you!” A nasty gash snaked along the side of his skull.

“Just bruised.” He ran a hand gently over his head. “A beam knocked me out and I would have probably died from the smoke and heat, but Gale kept us in a pocket of cool air. She had been hit by a piece of the barn’s wall when it shattered. But she came to and used her magic. She conjured a cushion of air around us to keep the burning debris from filling our hole.”

“Why didn’t I see you the next morning? Why didn’t you call out?”

“The roof had tented around us, and there was nothing you could do to help until the fire died.” His hand went to his ribs again. “I didn’t have enough air to yell and Gale needed all her strength to keep us alive.”

“Why couldn’t she blow the fire out? Or save the children?”

“Her powers are limited. It’s all part of her weather dancing thing.” He gestured past the wagon. “You can ask her. I’ve brought her along.” When he saw my questioning look, he added, “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

I looked on the other side of the wagon. Gale held Onyx’s and Topaz’s reins. Kiki had already found them and nuzzled Topaz. Garnet stood nearby. Gale’s unease about being surrounded by horses was reflected in the queasy look on her face.

“Did you learn anything else?” I asked Valek.

“Yes. Finding clothes when you’re half naked is harder than you think. And scared horses can travel pretty far in the wrong direction before you find them.” He studied the group of horses. “Onyx and Topaz are fast, but there’s nothing like a Sandseed horse when you’re in a hurry. And despite your detour to Booruby, love, I had a hard time catching up.”

“You could have found a way to tell me you were all right. I’ve spent the last week in utter misery.”

“Now you know how I felt when you jumped into the stable fire. And you know how I’ll feel if you don’t come back from fighting the Fire Warper.”

I opened my mouth then closed it. “You were eavesdropping.”

“I had hoped to hear everyone discussing how much they missed my altruistic qualities, my legendary skills as a fighter and as a lover.” He leered. “Instead, you’re making plans for tomorrow. Interesting how life goes on in spite of itself.”

Valek sobered and stared at me with a fiery intensity. “With all that planning, love, I’m sure you can figure a way to return.”

“I’m not smart enough.” My frustration wrapped around my chest and squeezed until I wanted to scream aloud. “I don’t know enough about magic! I don’t think anyone does. We’re all just bumbling along, using it and abusing it.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

“Yes. Although I’ll admit to being a hypocrite. First sign of trouble and I fall back on using magic.” My ability to guide souls hadn’t taxed my energy like using magic. I didn’t draw from the power source. It was a natural effort just like inhaling and exhaling. “When I think about magic, all I see is the harm it has done to this world.”

“Then you’re not looking in the right places.”

And this from someone who was immune to magic’s effects. I’d seen firsthand the Kirakawa ritual, the blood magic, the corruption of power, the Sandseed massacre and the tormented souls. It had to stop.

Valek studied my expression. “Think about what you said to the Commander about magic.”

“I tend to agree with the Commander about how magic corrupts.”

“Then why did you mention to the Commander how magic could harness the power of a blizzard and save his people instead of discussing the possibility of using power as a weapon? If magic corrupts, then why hasn’t it corrupted you? Or Irys? Moon Man? Leif?”

“We haven’t let it corrupt us.”

“Right! You have the choice.”

“But it’s a very tempting choice. Power is addictive. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Oh yes. Sitia has been battling Warpers for ages. Though you wouldn’t know it from all the peace and prosperity hanging around.” Sarcasm dripped from Valek’s words. “Let’s see, how long ago did the magicians use blood magic? I think Moon Man told me two thousand years. Then you’re right! It’s only a matter of time. A matter of two thousand years. I’ll take those odds any day.”

“I never realized how annoying you can be.”

“You know I’m right.”

“I could prove you wrong. I can be corrupt.” It was my turn to leer.

Valek looked over at Janco and the others. They milled about a small fire, trying to appear nonchalant, but I knew they listened to every word.

“Not in front of the children, love. But I’ll hold you to that.”

The night disappeared in a hurry. We finished prepping the wagon and updating our plans to include Valek and Gale.

The others had taken Valek’s return in stride, although Janco made a comment about Valek’s lack of hair. “You ever notice how couples start to look alike?” he asked.

In a deadpan, Valek replied, “Yes. In fact, I was just thinking how much you and Topaz resemble each other. It’s uncanny.”

Ari chuckled at Janco’s chagrined expression before saying, “The caravan is leaving soon. What part of the line do we want to be in?”

“Near the back, but not the last wagon,” Valek instructed. “When we’re out of sight of the gatehouse, head to the Keep.”

“Yes, sir.” Ari snapped to attention.

I stared at our small group. Marrok eyed Valek with dislike, but he had assumed the posture of a soldier waiting for orders. Leif chewed on his lip, a nervous habit. Gale’s face was bleached with fear, but she set her mouth into a determined frown. She told me her power was weak compared to a Stormdancer, but she could agitate the wind and kick up enough dust to impair the Daviians’ vision.

“We don’t know what we’ll encounter inside the Keep. Listen for instructions and follow orders even if they don’t make sense,” Valek ordered.

“Yes, sir,” everyone said in unison, including Gale.

Before we could get into position, I handed three of Opal’s glass animals to Leif and the other three to Gale.

“What are these for?” Leif asked.

“Keep one each, but give the rest to Moon Man, Irys, Bain and Dax if they’re still alive.” I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “I think I can use the animals to communicate with you when I’m in the fire world.”

Leif peered at me with sad eyes, but I turned away before he could say anything. “Come on, you first.” I gestured to the cart.

Leif, Gale and Valek hid in the three boxes at the bottom of the wagon. We put another empty crate and some genuine goods on top of them. Then I lay down inside the top crate.

When Marrok closed the lid, my heart slammed in my chest in a sudden panic. My throat closed when the rugs were piled on top. The wagon lurched. I wanted out. I felt trapped. The others could get out of their boxes through the hidden panels we had installed on the wagon’s floor. I could not. This wasn’t going to work. The Vermin would figure it out before we could reach the Keep. And then what would happen?

I drew in a few steadying breaths. We would be captured. I would be fed to the Fire Warper just like I wanted. All we would lose was the element of surprise. While helpful, I believed even with it the chances of the others living through the encounter were little to none.

My morose line of thought was not helping my state of mind. So I focused instead on the motion of the wagon. It had been a long and emotionally exhausting night. I fell asleep during the trip to the Citadel.

The sound of an unfamiliar voice roused me from sleep. We had stopped, and I gathered by the voices we were at the Citadel’s north gate. The voices came closer and a person banged on my box. I jumped, clamping my lips against a shout.

“What’s in this one?” a man asked.

“The finest silk sheets woven by the Moon Clan, sir,” the merchant replied. “Perhaps you care to purchase a set? Just feel the fabric and you’ll know your wife will be most anxious to try them out.”

The man laughed. “I’ll not be spending a month’s pay for a night with my wife. That’s why I married her.”

Their laughter trailed away as the guard questioned the merchant on his reasons for entering the Citadel. After what seemed like hours, the wagon began to move. Ari picked up the pace and I guessed we had broken off from the caravan.

When the sounds from the market reached me, the wagon slowed. Ari called out to the stand owners, giving them the sign to prepare to revolt. A network of messengers would fan out to spread the news, then remain in place to deliver the signal for action.

The fighting would erupt when our wagon went inside the Keep. The cart turned around a corner. It stopped with a jerk.

Ari cursed and the jangle of many horses surrounded us. A familiar voice called out, “Oh no. This will not do.”

Cahil.

32

CAHIL AND HIS MEN had found us. Trapped inside my crate, I could do nothing but wait for the inevitable. I hoped Valek and the others hiding in the wagon would be able to sneak away.

“I assume you have Yelena hidden somewhere in your wagon?” Cahil asked.

“Have who, sir?” Ari asked, playing innocent. “All I have is goods for the market.”

“For the market? The market you just rode through without stopping to unload? I don’t think so. Despite your disguises and weak attempts to explain your presence, I know who you are and why you’re here. In fact, I was sent by Jal to come and escort you to the Keep.”

I heard a creak as Ari shifted his weight and I detected a faint rustling from below me. Probably Valek opening his escape panel.

“Relax,” Cahil said. “I’m not here to capture you. I’m here to join you. And I hope for the sake of all our lives you have a decent plan.”

I had to let Cahil’s words sink in. Had he just said he wanted to join us?

“A plan, sir?” Ari asked.

Cahil snorted with exasperation. “Yelena! Leif!” he called. “Come out and tell your big northern friend I’m telling the truth. Look for yourselves. My men have not drawn their—”

A surprised yelp followed a thud. Then Ari moved off the wagon and the rugs on top of my crate scraped away. The lid lifted. I had my switchblade in hand, but Ari’s amused face greeted me. He helped me stand. Valek had a knife to Cahil’s throat. He and Cahil were on the ground. Cahil’s men remained on their mounts. The men appeared tense and alert but hadn’t drawn any weapons. Leif and Janco joined Ari and all three pulled their blades. Marrok stayed on Garnet.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t cut your throat?” Valek asked Cahil.

“You won’t get into the Keep without me,” he said. He kept still and held his hands up and away from his body.

“Why this sudden change of heart?” I asked.

Cahil’s gaze met mine. Hatred still radiated from his eyes but the pain of betrayal tainted them. “You were right.” He said each word as if it hurt him. “They’re using me and…”

“And what?” I prompted.

“The rituals and killings have gotten out of hand. I can’t be a part of it anymore.” He looked at Marrok. “I wasn’t raised to be a killer. I was raised to be a leader. I’ll earn my throne the old-fashioned way.”

Although the expression on Marrok’s face never changed, his body relaxed.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Ari asked.

“Yelena knows through her magic.”

I shook my head. “I can’t use it. It will alert Jal and risk the mission.”

“She already knows you’re here. You have thwarted her a number of times, although it will be more difficult now, as she has gained an incredible amount of power through the Kirakawa ritual.”

“She?” Valek and I asked in unison.

“We thought Jal was Gede,” I said.

Cahil blinked at us for a moment. “You didn’t know? What else don’t you know? You were planning an attack at the Keep, right? I thought you had it all figured out.”

“You thought wrong,” I said, annoyed. “We had to guess about the state of affairs inside the Keep.”

“Then here’s a way for me to prove my loyalty. I’ll tell you what’s been going on and will help you get inside. Agreed?”

Valek and I exchanged a glance.

“Do I still get to kill him?” Valek asked.

“At the first sign of betrayal, yes,” I said.

“What about after this is all over?”

“Then it’s your call.”

Cahil stared at us. “Hold on. I’m risking my life to help you. I’d like some guarantees.”

“We’ve come to a point where there are no guarantees. For any of us,” I said.

“That’s not very encouraging,” Cahil said.

“It’s not supposed to be. You should know what happens when you play with fire, Cahil. Eventually, you’ll get burned. Now, tell us what you know,” I ordered.

Valek removed his knife from Cahil’s throat and stepped back. Cahil scanned the area. We had attracted quite the crowd, but I saw to my relief that there were no Vermin among them. Then it hit me—why not? I asked Cahil.

He gave me a sardonic smile. “They’re all at the Keep. Roze plans a massive Kirakawa ritual using all the magicians she has captured to empower all her favorite Warpers in one sweep. And you’re to be the coup de grâce.”

My blood turned to ice. “Roze?”

A superior expression settled on Cahil’s face. “Yes, Roze Featherstone, First Magician also known as Jalila Daviian, First Warper and founder of the Daviian Clan.”

All color drained from Leif’s face. “But how? Why?”

“I had no idea until Ferde was caught. She asked me to rescue him in exchange for the Council’s support to invade Ixia,” Cahil said. “I thought it was an undercover mission to learn who else was behind his bid for power. Though, when I discovered the truth about her and the other Warpers, I must admit it didn’t bother me at the time. She promised to attack Ixia and make me king.”

“How many Warpers are inside and who are the victims for the ritual?” I asked.

“Six very powerful Warpers, including Roze and Gede. They have been very careful about who they allow to increase their powers, keeping crucial information about the Kirakawa ritual to a select few. There are fifty Vermin soldiers and ten medium-powered Warpers. Two of those Warpers are scheduled to be given master-level powers during the massive ritual. The victims for this ritual will be the three other Masters, who are incarcerated in the Keep’s cells, Moon Man and the Councilors.”

“What about the students?”

“The older apprentices have been put in the cells. The younger ones obey out of fear.”

“How does Roze plan to control the Master Magicians?”

“She has the power, but I think she does plan to prick them with Curare to save her energy. Once they are tied down, a dose of Theobroma will weaken their defenses.”

“They seem to have an unlimited supply of Curare,” I mused out loud.

“Gede Daviian has provided the drug for them. He also helped recruit dissatisfied Sandseeds to the Daviian Clan. And having a pet Fire Warper has made him the Daviians’ most valued member.”

I mulled over the information. “How do you plan to get us inside?”

“As my prisoner. She knows I went to find you. I’ll bring you to her and since my feelings for you haven’t changed, I won’t have to act like I hate you. Sensing nothing wrong, Roze will probably order me to take the rest—” Cahil pointed to Ari and Janco “—to the cells.”

“Why would I cooperate with you?”

“Because I’ll have Leif, and I’ll make a bargain to keep him safe in exchange for your cooperation.”

My mind raced through the options and possibilities. For the first time, I felt hopeful about my friends’ survival. “Cahil, when you take the others to the cells, can you free everyone inside?”

“As long as Roze is occupied.”

Valek smiled. “What’s the plan, love?”

We approached the Keep’s gate at a slow walk. I sat in front of Cahil on his horse. Ari and Marrok sat on the wagon with their hands tied behind their backs. Valek and Janco hid in the bottom crates, and Leif sat on Kiki with one of Cahil’s men sitting behind him armed with a knife.

I didn’t have to pretend to be scared and concerned for my friends. We were waved through the gate without hesitation. Ari had informed the Citadel’s citizens to wait ten minutes before storming the entrance to the Keep. Ten minutes for Cahil and the rest to free the prisoners and for me to jump into the fire. I hoped it was enough time.

The wagon bypassed the Keep’s administration building to where the apprentice barracks formed a ring around an open area. A few students hurried past, keeping their gazes on the ground as they carried out their tasks.

The grassy glen had been transformed. I stared at the waste-land in shock. The bonfire was expected, but the grass around the fire had been covered with sand. Brownish-red stains soaked the sand and stakes had been driven into it.

It was the killing ground for the Kirakawa ritual. And the next victim had already been tied down and prepped.

Bloody cuts crisscrossed his abdomen, legs and arms. Although in pain, Moon Man still managed to smile. “Now we can start the party,” he said.

Roze frowned at him and he writhed in agony. She stood next to Moon Man. Gede was beside her. Other Warpers ringed the fire pit, watching with predatory eyes.

“I see you finally managed to get something right, Cahil,” she said. “Bring her here.”

Cahil slid off the saddle and grabbed me around the waist. He knew he didn’t need to help me down, so he must have a reason. I let him yank me from the saddle, and drop me on the ground.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked in a tight whisper as he jerked me to my feet.

“As close to the fire as I can.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Although my heart beat a different answer. No! it pounded. Let’s go! Run!

He clamped his hand around my arm and pulled me to Roze. We stopped a few feet from the fire. The heat pulsed in waves. Sweat dripped down my back.

Roze gestured to a couple of Warpers. “There are two hiding in the boxes. Take them.”

The Warpers and a few soldiers advanced on the wagon. After some banging and cursing, Janco and Gale were hauled out.

“There are three compartments, but one is empty,” a Warper called.

Roze looked at me with a question in her eyes.

“For me. So I could get inside the Citadel.” The truth. I kept my mind on the task at hand and didn’t allow it to wonder about Valek.

“At this distance, Yelena, do you realize your mental defenses are nothing but a thin shell? I will see your lies before you can form them in your mind. Remember that.”

I nodded and strengthened my barrier.

She laughed and ordered the soldiers to take the others to the cells. “I’ll deal with them later.” Once the cart was out of sight, she peered at me and Cahil.

“Your capture was too easy,” she said. “You must think I’m a simpleton, but no matter, I’ve only to expand a sliver of power to find out what you’re planning.” Her strong magic invaded my mind.

I kept my thoughts on saving Moon Man, Leif and the others as I mentally dodged her onslaught. It failed to work. To distract her, I asked, “Why?”

“Nice try.” Her magic crashed through my defenses, and seized my body. “You are in my power now. Sitia is saved.”

“Saved from me?” At least I could still talk. In fact, even with her incredible strength, she could only control either my mind or my body. Not both.

“Saved from you. The Commander. Valek. Our way of life is secured.”

“By killing Sitians? Using blood magic?”

“Small price to pay for our continued prosperity. I could not let the Commander invade us. The Council failed to see the problem. I created the Daviians as a backup—a hidden weapon for when we needed them. It worked. The Council eventually agreed with me.” Smug satisfaction shone in her eyes.

Through our mental link, I sensed she didn’t understand the whole truth or she chose to ignore it. “The Daviians forced the Council to agree with you. They had their children.”

Extreme annoyance creased Roze’s forehead. She shot Gede a venom-laced look. He wisely remained quiet, but his muscles tensed.

“Are you sure you have control of the Daviians?” I asked.

“Of course. And once we choose a new Council we will attack Ixia and free them. They will welcome our way of life.” She smiled.

“So you saved Sitia? Tell me, how is sacrificing the Council different than Valek assassinating them?”

Roze frowned and a wave of pain pulsed through my body. My thoughts scattered as an unrelenting torment twisted my muscles. When I regained my senses, I was lying in the sand, looking up at her.

“Isn’t choosing new Councilors the same as appointing generals?” I asked.

Another jolt of pain sizzled along my spine. I arched my back and screamed. Sweat poured from my head and soaked my clothes. My heart pumped as if it ran for its life. I gasped for breath.

“Would you care to ask anything else?” Danger glinted in her eyes.

“Yes. How are your actions different than the Commander’s?”

She paused, and I pressed my advantage. “You want to protect Sitia from the Commander, but in the process you turned into him.”

Her mouth opened to protest, but I interrupted. “You’re worried the Commander would invade Sitia and turn your clans into Military Districts. But you’re planning to attack Ixia and turn his Military Districts into clans. How is that different? Tell me!”

She blustered and shook her head. “I’m…he’s…” Then she laughed. “Why should I listen to you? You’re a Soulfinder. You want to control Sitia. Of course you would try to sway me with your lies.”

Gede relaxed and chuckled with Roze. “She will twist your words. You should kill her now.”

Roze drew a breath.

“Wait for the ritual! I have something you want,” I said.

“What could you have that I can not take from you?”

“According to the ritual, a willing victim releases more power than a resisting one.”

“And you will submit to me in exchange for what?”

“For all my friends’ lives.”

“No. Only one. You choose.”

“Moon Man, then.” I hoped the others managed to escape.

She released her hold on me. I stood, but she pointed. “Lie in the sand,” she ordered.

“Can I ask another question first?”

“One.”

“What happens to the Fire Warper after this ritual?”

“Once you’re dead, our deal is complete. We have promised him your power and fed him in exchange for knowledge about the blood magic. He will then have enough power to rule the underworld.”

A shout reached us and I felt a magical onslaught.

Roze turned to the commotion and gestured to her Warpers. “Take care of them.” Unconcerned, she said to me, “You know they will not get close to us. My Warpers and I have enough power to stop them.”

“Yes, I know.”

“But I don’t think you believe it. Watch what I can do. This used to drain me of energy. Now it takes only a thought.” Her gaze went to Moon Man’s.

His face paled and his body jerked once then stilled. The shine in his eyes dulled as his soul left his body.

33

I DIVED OVER HIS PRONE form and inhaled his soul before crashing to the sand.

Gede gasped. “He was for the ritual.”

Roze laughed and said, “Don’t worry. She’ll now give me two sources of power when I cut her heart out.”

“We made a deal, Roze. My cooperation for Moon Man.” I brushed the sand off my clothes.

“And you won’t cooperate when I press a knife to Leif’s throat?” she asked. By the expression on my face, she knew I would. “You’re too soft, Soulfinder. You could have raised a soulless army. They would have been undefeatable. Magic doesn’t work on them. Only fire.”

Another cry split the air, but this time from the opposite direction. A Vermin raced toward us.

“Now what?” Roze asked him.

“The Keep’s gates are under attack,” he said, panting.

She glanced at the Warpers fighting with the Keep’s magicians. A vision of the battle formed in my mind. The ferocity of the combat dwindled. The confusing array of magical images was gone and Gale’s whirling dust devils had died. People fell to the ground after being hit with Curare-laced darts. Leif, Ari and Bain lay paralyzed. Janco fought a soldier, keeping the man between him and the blowpipes. His movements slowed as another Warper focused his magic on him.

Roze’s Warpers had gained the upper hand; it was only a matter of time.

“There is nobody left to rescue you,” Roze said.

Her comments hit home when she called a few Warpers away from the battle to deal with the revolt at the gates.

But there was one person I didn’t see and that gave me some hope. “Roze, you haven’t figured everything out.”

She looked dubious. “What have I missed? Valek? Oh, I know he’s here. Magic might not affect him, but Curare will do the trick.”

“No. The Fire Warper.”

“What about him?”

“You haven’t taken into account that he might have different plans than you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Gede and I feed him. We give him his power. Who else would help him?”

“I would.”

I ran toward the fire. Roze’s yell sounded faint over the roar of the blaze. The heat encompassed me in a loving embrace. Burning pain transformed into pinpricks of pleasure. But this time the world didn’t settle into the smooth plain of black. Souls filled my world, writhing and crying with misery. The air stank of decay and infection.

Help! Help! they cried.

The Fire Warper ordered them to be quiet and pushed them away from me. “She is here for me,” he said. “She will not help you.”

He studied me. “You have brought me a treat. No only a soul for the sky, but Moon Man’s bright power will increase my strength.”

Moon Man stood next to me. He peered about the fire world with mild interest.

“I’m sorry you’re here,” I said. “I didn’t plan for it to be you.”

“Why not? I am your guide, Yelena. In life and in death. That never changes.”

“But you said Gede was my new Story Weaver.”

“You were looking for an easy road. Which Gede provided. You could have reclaimed me as your Story Weaver at any time.”

“How?”

“You just needed to ask. Or rather begged for my return—much better for my ego.”

The Fire Warper stepped between us. “How sweet. Now take me to the sky,” he demanded.

“No,” I said.

“You cannot refuse me. We made a deal.”

“I promised to come back. I didn’t promise to take you into the sky.”

“Then you and Moon Man will stay here in misery and I will use your power to reach the sky.” He advanced and grabbed my arms.

My skin boiled as searing daggers of pain spread throughout my body. I screamed, but he didn’t have the ability to take what he wanted. I had to give it to him.

He tried another tactic. Waving with an arm, a window opened and I could see Roze and her Warpers. Leif, Bain, Ari, Janco, Gale, Cahil and Marrok all were staked in the sand.

“They lost. There are a few more left, but when they are captured, the fun begins. However, if you lead me to the sky, I will stop Roze and release all your friends and family.”

I looked at Moon Man.

“If you do not help the Fire Warper,” Moon Man said, “we are stuck here and Roze will send each of them to suffer in this world with us.”

This was the one scenario I had hoped to avoid. “Are you saying that’s what I should do?”

“No. I am merely pointing out the consequences.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Your decision to make. You are the Soulfinder. Find your soul.”

I wanted to strangle him, but he was already dead. “Do you think you could give me a straight answer one time?” I demanded.

“Yes, I could.”

I gazed out as frustration and futility twisted tightly around me. Sensing I was conflicted, the Fire Warper let the souls draw near to me so I could see the fate of my friends. Their cries grew shrill in my ears and the heat baked my skin, making it difficult to concentrate. The fetid odor assaulted my senses.

“Watch,” he said, and pointed to the scene beyond the fire. “Roze has ensnared Irys in a cocoon of magic. She will force her to lie upon the sand and be tied down.”

Sure enough Irys walked toward Roze. She knelt before her. Irys’s eyes glanced to the side before the other Warpers secured her in the sand. I followed her gaze and spotted Valek.

He fought four Warpers with swords, but I knew they threw every ounce of magic at him. And by Roze’s intent gaze, she aimed all her power against him. Even though the magic didn’t work, he still felt the presence and it slowed his movements. A soldier waited nearby with a blowpipe, seeking the first opportunity to hit Valek with a dart.

“And Valek will be next,” the Fire Warper said. “What do you want to do? Watch your friends and lover die or guide me to the sky?”

I held out my hand to Moon Man and to the Fire Warper. “Come,” I said.

34

A TRIUMPHANT GRIN SPREAD on the Fire Warper’s face. Moon Man remained unflappable. He held my hand. Even though it appeared to be made of smoke, his hand felt solid in mine. Moon Man looked at me. The oval shape of his eyes matched Roze’s. Why hadn’t I noticed the resemblance before?

Roze’s comments replayed in my mind. Could I reanimate Moon Man’s body after I took him to the sky? According to Roze, soulless bodies were unaffected by magic. Could I create a small force to help Irys and Valek?

My bat flew around my head. Odd. How could he be here?

Moon Man sighed. I missed the point. It didn’t matter how the bat had gotten here, but why was he here at all. Bats. Opal’s glass bat. I reached for my pocket, but the answer halted the motion. Opal’s sister. Tula!

When Ferde had stolen Tula’s soul and strangled her, I had used my magic to breathe for Tula, but as soon as I had stopped, she had stopped.

I didn’t possess the power to raise a soulless army.

The magician born one-hundred-and-fifty years ago wasn’t a Soulfinder, but a Soulstealer.

I was a true Soulfinder. And I knew what my job entailed. The Fire Warper grew impatient with my delay and reached for my free hand; I yanked it away. My bat cried out with joy and disappeared.

I sought Roze with my mind, seeing her soul and the souls of all her victims trapped within her. Their blood had been injected into her skin to bind them to her. I pushed at the blood, sweeping and forcing it through her pores, pulling the souls free, sending them to the sky.

She yelped and rolled up her sleeve. Black liquid oozed from her arms, dripping onto the sand. The putrid smell of rancid blood surrounded her like a fog. Each one I removed weakened Roze until only her own power remained.

Then I projected my mind to Gede and did the same to him. One by one I plucked souls from the Warpers, weakening them.

The Fire Warper cried an oath and lunged for me. Moon Man intercepted and fought him so I could return my attention to the Keep.

Roze’s magical hold on Irys had slipped when I extracted her power. Freed from the magic, Irys used her own skills to draw a knife close to her and cut the rope. Once loose, she ran to a few others who had not been pricked with Curare but who, like her, had been captured by magic.

Gale and Marrok joined her and they attacked Roze. Valek’s opponents had been distracted by the scene around them, giving Valek the opportunity to dispatch them. The man with the blowpipe ran off. Valek turned his full attention to Roze.

Satisfied all was well with my friends, I focused on the Fire Warper. He held Moon Man in a tight grip, compressing Moon Man’s soul to bind him to the fire world.

“Stop,” I said. “You’ll gain no more power today.” I pulled at Moon Man with my magic and he popped from the Fire Warper’s grasp. “I find souls and ensure they arrive at the proper destination. He doesn’t belong here. But you do.”

I moved past him. He tried to stop me, but he was a soul just like all the others and I controlled him. Moving through the fire world, I found those who didn’t belong and released them to the sky. The Fire Warper screamed at me with each one, but I ignored him. A long time passed as I freed them all, but my energy increased with every rescue.

“Why aren’t I tired?” I asked Moon Man.

He smiled. “Think about what you have learned today.”

I glanced around. The Fire Warper’s power had diminished with each freed soul. Perhaps stealing his power had increased my own?

“No.” Moon Man looked a little exasperated, as if he couldn’t believe how slow I was. I did take some pleasure from his expression. To alter his calm demeanor required much effort on my part.

The Fire Warper glowered at me. “It is only a matter of time before I regain my strength,” he said. “There is always someone who desires more power and I will be waiting for them.”

“Not if I can help it,” I said.

“Then you will have to spend eternity with me to prevent it. The knowledge is out there now. Another fool will figure out how to contact me through the flames.”

He had a point. But I was the Soulfinder. In order to do my job, I would have to stay in the underworld and send the souls to their proper places. Thinking about my job, I remembered a promise to Moon Man.

“Can you guide me to the shadow world?” I asked him.

“No. But you can lead me.”

“And you call yourself a guide?”

He smiled serenely.

“I hate you.” I clasped Moon Man’s hand.

I thought of the shadow world with its gray plain and sky. The red glow faded and soon the featureless expanse spread in front of us.

“This is only the corridor between worlds, Yelena. Look deeper to see the real shadow world.”

Another cryptic instruction. For all my abilities, I still couldn’t get Moon Man to give me a straight answer. I pushed away my frustration and focused on who I was trying to find. The Sandseeds who had been killed by the Vermin in the Avibian Plains.

The flat area began to undulate and transform into the plains. Small outcroppings of rocks grew and the smooth gray ground sprouted grass and a few bushes. A cluster of canvas tents popped up and circled a fire pit. The scene before me resembled a Sandseed camp. Yet there was no color. Only black and white and every shade of gray.

Sandseeds huddled together in this camp on the altered Avibian Plain, living in the shadow cast by the real world. They clung to their memories of life, not realizing peace awaited them in the sky.

I walked among them and talked to them. Their numbers grew and I had to stop myself from reliving the horror of the Vermin’s attack and massacre. I made promises to watch over the living Sandseeds who had hidden during the attack. Days and weeks could have passed while I convinced them to move on. I had no concept of time.

Again, as I sent each one into the sky, my strength grew. “There are many more souls clinging to the shadow world,” I said to Moon Man, thinking about all the towns and cities in Sitia and Ixia. “Let me return you to your body and you can tell the others my fate.”

“I can not return,” he said. “My body has died, unlike yours. And even if you heal me, I would be unhappy and would wish for death.”

“Like Stono and Gelsi?”

“Yes. Eventually both will find their way back to where they belong.”

“Then I will send you to the sky. You deserve to be there.”

“Not until you understand.”

“I do understand. I’m doing my job. I’ve resigned myself to living here to keep Sitia and Ixia safe from more Warpers!” I clamped my hands together to keep them from wrapping around Mr. I-know-everything-and-you-don’t Man’s thick neck.

“Have you truly resigned yourself?” he asked.

“I…” I huffed in frustration. I would rather be back with Valek, Kiki, my parents, Leif, Irys, Ari, Janco and my other friends. I had learned my true job, but there were still many aspects of my magic and others’ magic to explore. I thought about Opal’s unique ability. Then I remembered my glass bat.

Had it survived the fire? I felt inside my pockets. Odd how my clothing had survived the flames. My fingers touched a smooth lump. I pulled the animal from my cape. The inner core glowed with magic. Staring at the light, I saw Leif’s sad face. He peered at me in sorrow, then disbelief when I smiled at him.

“Hello from the underworld,” I said.

“Yelena! What the…? Where are…? Come back!”

“I can’t. Tell me what has happened?”

He gave me a quick sketch of how the battle had played out after I jumped into the fire. Most of the Warpers were dead, only Roze, Gede and four others remained alive. They were in the Keep’s cells, awaiting trial.

“They will be hanged for treason and murder,” Leif said. He grew somber. “We buried Moon Man last week.”

“Last week? But—”

“You’ve been gone for weeks. We keep the fire burning, hoping you’ll return. Also Valek will not let us quench it. He’s been helping the Councilors and Master Magicians recover from their ordeal and to smooth out relations with the Commander via Ambassador Signe. Valek went from the scourge of Sitia to the hero of Sitia.” Leif smiled sardonically.

Valek. The one person I wouldn’t mind spending eternity with.

Leif continued, “And the rest of us are coping with the aftermath. Many students were killed by the Vermin. We’re still sorting out who is left. Your friend Dax is okay, but Gelsi died resisting a Warper.”

Moon Man was right, Gelsi found her way back. I hoped Stono wouldn’t suffer too much before his soul found the sky.

He paused. “The Sitian army’s hunting down the remaining Vermin who escaped. The Sandseeds have moved back to the plains to repopulate.” Leif sighed. “You’re missed by everyone. Why can’t you come back?”

“Someone needs to keep the Fire Warper from regaining power.”

Leif frowned as he thought, then looked hopeful. “Bain has burned those old Efe texts to stop someone from learning about the blood magic.”

“But there are others who know how to perform the ritual, and, even though you will execute them, they will be here in the fire world and able to communicate to someone who is determined to seek them out.”

“You’re a Soulfinder, can’t you send them somewhere out of reach?” Leif asked.

“They don’t deserve to be in the sky.”

“Why not?” Moon Man said.

My mind thought over what I knew of the sky, which was very little. “I think they would taint it. It’s pure and their vile deeds would soil it.”

“Finally. What is the sky?”

What indeed? When I sent souls there, I felt refreshed, energetic even though I used power, which usually caused me fatigue. I added souls to the sky. Adding to the power blanket surrounding the world.

The source of magic!

The world’s soul.

Moon Man beamed at me. “Now you can send me there! And then you can return to your life.”

He chuckled at my dubious expression. “You will find a way, Yelena. You always do.”

“Last piece of cryptic advice?”

“Consider it my farewell gift.”

I hesitated for a moment. Once Moon Man was gone I would be all alone.

“All the more reason not to stay,” Moon Man said.

“There’s one thing I won’t miss.”

“And that is?”

“You reading my mind all the time and making me figure things out for myself.”

“All part of being your Story Weaver. It does not stop, you know. You will hear my voice in your mind from time to time, giving you my unique advice.”

I groaned. “And I thought living in the underworld for eternity was bad!”

Before sending him to the sky, I stared at him, trying to hold his features, including his sardonic grin, in my mind. When he disappeared, his absence felt like an icy coating on my skin. I realized I still held Opal’s bat, but my connection to Leif was broken.

I wandered through the shadow world and found lost souls. Every so often I checked in the fire world to make sure the Fire Warper remained as he should be. He cursed, taunted and tried to cajole me, depending on his mood.

Irys, Leif and Bain all talked to me through the glass animals. They were the only ones who had the ability to use them. Through them I knew Roze, Gede and the other Warpers would be hanged soon. I prepared to receive them in the fire world.

In the meantime, I stared at my bat, trying and failing to connect to Valek. My desire to talk to him, to hold him, clawed at my body. Frustration at my inability to communicate with him caused a window to open to the real world, and I could view events around my fire. I laughed at my intense feelings of ownership. My fire. But I sobered. I knew after they hanged Roze and the others, my fire would be doused and my window closed for good.

The Council planned to hang Roze and her accomplices on gallows built in the bloodstained sand then burn their bodies in my fire. An insult given only to traitors.

The sand would be cleaned up and perhaps the gardeners would plant grass in the space. Or some trees. Flowers. A memorial? Perhaps a structure similar to one of the Citadel’s jade statues or fountains. To remember me and Moon Man.

Now I was being maudlin and dramatic. Next thing I knew, I’d be designing the memorial, sketching its dimensions in the sand. I wondered about what they would do with all the sand. Send it to Booruby to be melted into glass? So Opal could turn fire into ice?

I froze in shock as a wild idea formed in my head. Thinking it through, I found many holes and reasons for it not to work. But success or not, at least I could say I tried. And the effort alone would keep Moon Man from nagging me for a while.

35

CALLING TO LEIF through my bat, I hoped there would be enough time. He seemed eager to help and rushed off to make the arrangements.

Events had to happen in a particular order for this to work. I returned to the fire world. The Fire Warper would be our first test subject. Watching out my window, I waited for Leif to return. I didn’t like being in the fire world. The shrill noise drilled through my skull and the putrid smell permeated the air. I preferred the quiet dullness of the shadow world.

The Fire Warper enjoyed my anxiety. “Look at how you long to return. Your suffering is my only pleasure. And I will enjoy keeping you here. Already I sense an unhappy boy who seeks revenge on his tormentors. If his desire grows, I’ll be able to talk to him. Unless you prevent it.”

Doubt flared about what I planned. Was I being selfish? Could I still rescue souls lost in the shadow world? Yet I had done it before with the ghosts in Owl’s Hill. Suppressing all my fears, I ignored the Fire Warper’s comments.

What seemed like a couple of weeks to me, but could have been a month or more, passed. By my brief glimpses into the Keep, the cold season had ended and the warming season was in full swing. I received updates from Leif, but now that I had a chance to escape, my impatience grew.

Finally, all the elements were in place. The gallows were built and the needed equipment brought in. My incredible relief at seeing Opal surprised me. Her mouth was pressed in pure determination as she readied her tools.

Another worry crossed my mind. Within the underworld, I hadn’t felt cold, hot, hunger or thirst. But if I stepped back through the fire, would it burn me? I would find out soon enough. The Fire Warper hovered near me, his amusement plain.

Opal grasped a long metal pipe and poked it into the kiln. I wondered where they had gotten the glassmaking supplies. She turned the pipe and drew it out. And proceeded to create a glass animal.

When she moved to blow into the pipe, I inhaled the Fire Warper’s soul. He yelped in surprise and seared my skin as I sent him through Opal and into the glass. He screamed in panic and resisted. But I controlled him. He was a soul after all.

Opal jerked as if burned, but returned to her task, making the ugliest, squattest looking pig I ever saw.

Placing the animal into the annealing oven, the wait began. Had our experiment worked? If the Fire Warper was truly trapped within the glass, then we could encase all the Warpers who knew how to perform blood magic, preventing them from passing the information along. And I could go home.

Twelve of the longest hours passed before Opal withdrew the pig and held the statue up for all to see. It was then I noticed just how many people had come to watch. I expected Leif, the Master Magicians and Councilors, but it appeared that Fisk and the entire Helping Guild members were there. My mother and father lingered at the edges. Perl’s hand was clamped to her throat in dismay, but she looked as determined as Opal.

Cahil and a regiment of soldiers, including Marrok stood at attention. Ari and Janco waited with Leif. Janco scowled, showing his extreme dislike of magic.

Valek glowed with his own inner fire. For him, I would risk the flames’ heat.

I turned my attention to Opal’s creation. It pulsed with a muddy red light. The Fire Warper was locked inside.

The audience cheered. Opal placed the pig in the sand, and gathered another blob of molten glass, preparing for the next soul.

Roze, under the control of three Master Magicians, was forced to mount the gallows’ steps. The noose was tightened around her neck and the executioner stepped back. Her face contorted with rage and she shouted.

Time froze for a moment and I felt what it would have been like to stand there terrified, waiting for the floor to open and my life to end with a quick snap of my neck. If I had chosen the noose instead of becoming the Commander’s food taster two years ago, I wondered if any of this would have happened.

Roze fell in slow motion. Her body jerked at the end of the rope. Her soul flew. I captured it.

Her hateful thoughts filled my mind. Guardian of the underworld suits you, Yelena. You belong here. You don’t really believe you can go back? You’ll be feared by all and become an outcast in record time.

If I was a Soulstealer, I would agree with you, I said. You don’t scare me, Roze. You never did and that bothered you more than me being a Soulfinder.

Opal blew. I sent Roze on her final journey. Then Gede. Then the other four Warpers. Seven in all, including the Fire Warper.

When all the Warpers had been encased in glass, Opal sank to the ground in exhaustion. Now I could leave. I glanced around, trying to determine whether I missed anything, whether a soul who could do harm remained. Roze’s words had a bit of truth to them. Regardless of my explanations, Sitians would be frightened of me and the Council’s suspicion and unease would linger for a long time.

I welcomed the difficulties. All part of living, and I planned to enjoy every minute.

As I walked through my window to the Keep, sounds reached me first. The roar of the fire. Leif calling my name. Then scalding heat sucked my breath away. Bright yellow and orange stabbed at my eyes. My cape caught fire. I dived to the sand and rolled on the ground to snuff the flames. So much for my grand entrance.

36

I SPENT MY FIRST HOURS back cocooned in an excited babble of all my friends and family. Everyone except Valek. But I knew I would see him when the horde dispersed.

Once my fire had finished its macabre task of burning the traitors to ash, it was doused. Thick smoke boiled from it and clung to the ground until Gale Stormdance created a fresh breeze to whisk it away.

I noted with much interest how fast life resumed. Though glad I had returned, the Councilors left for a meeting, and Fisk and his guild hurried off to work in the market.

Before he left, Fisk flashed me a wide smile and said, “Lovely Yelena, you’ll need new clothes for the hot season. I know the best seamstress in the Citadel. Come find me when you’re ready.”

The hot season? Ari told me it had just started. I had lived in the underworld for seventy-one days, missing the entire warming season. I viewed the time with mixed emotions: glad my perceptions in the underworld didn’t match reality, especially if I ever needed to go back; and upset I wasn’t here to help clean up the mess left behind by the Vermin.

Ari and Janco grumbled over the hot, sticky weather and confessed their desire to go home to Ixia.

“We had fun rooting out all those Daviians,” Janco said. “But I’m sure Maren misses us.”

Ari looked doubtful. He had washed the black dye from his hair, and his light skin had burned in the Sitian sun. Janco’s skin had tanned, matching his Sitian clothes.

“Oh this?” Janco said, when I mentioned his new coloring. “You missed some beautiful days.”

“Janco’s been sunning himself every chance he gets,” Ari said with obvious disdain. “He claimed he kept the fire going, but I caught him snoozing in the sand a few times.”

“Once!” Janco said.

They began to bicker. I laughed and moved away, but heard Ari call out, “Training yard, five o’clock.”

Kiki’s urgent summons had nagged me the whole time I’d been back. I hurried over to the stable to spend an hour with her. Perhaps Valek would show up and we could get reacquainted in the straw.

I scratched her ears, fed her peppermints and ducked behind a stack of hay bales when the Stable Master came looking for me, probably to give me a lecture about borrowing Garnet for so long.

Lavender Lady not go again, Kiki said in my mind.

I’ll try to avoid it. No promises, though.

She huffed. Next time Kiki go.

A Horsefinder?

Help Lavender Lady, Kiki said, as if that ended the discussion.

Even though I longed to return to my rooms in Irys’s tower, my parents insisted I come to their quarters in the Keep’s guest wing after I visited the stables. Leif, Irys and Bain followed me, and the six of us sat in the living room, sipping tea. Wedged tightly between my father and mother on the couch, I was held prisoner. My desire to seek Valek would have to wait.

Bain and Irys were most interested in what had happened in the fire and shadow worlds. After giving them a brief sketch, Bain made me promise to visit him and recite the details for his book.

“You passed the Master-level test,” Irys said.

“What?” Caught off guard by this sudden change in topic, I choked on my tea.

“You entered the underworld and returned with a spirit guide. Your encounter with the Fire Warper was your challenge, and his defeat your success.”

“But I don’t have a spirit guide.”

Leif laughed. “Your bat! I thought he was strange. Beside the obvious fact that he wanted to hang out with you.”

“Leif. That’s not nice, considering all your sister has done for you,” Perl admonished.

“Oh, right. How can I forget that she made me bait for a snake, left me under house arrest in Ixia and smuggled me into the Keep in a coffin. And don’t forget the time…”

I ignored Leif’s rant. I wondered, why a bat? Why not something fearsome like a fire dragon or necklace snake? Irys had a hawk, Bain a wind leopard and Zitora a unicorn. Thinking of Zitora, I reminded myself to go visit her in the infirmary. She had been severely wounded during the fight with the Warpers, and her recovery had been slow.

I kept glancing out the window, hoping to see Valek. My mind circled through various excuses for me to leave everyone to search for him.

Bain interrupted Leif’s list of grievances against me. “According to our policies, Yelena is Fourth Magician.”

I raised my hand to prevent any more wild speculation. “No. I can’t light fires or move objects like the Masters can. I’m a Soulfinder. My job is to find lost souls and send them home, including the souls of Ixia. There is still need for a Liaison between the two countries. I plan to reassume the role.”

And the first order of business would be to assess Cahil’s intentions. His help in defeating Roze and uncovering all the Vermin nests had proven invaluable to the Council, but I wasn’t convinced his new role meant he wouldn’t try some way to claim Ixia’s throne.

Leif asked, “What do we do with those glass prisons? They’re under guard, but we don’t want them falling into the wrong hands.”

“What would happen if they break?” Perl asked.

They all looked at me. “If the souls are freed, they will go to the fire world, unless there is another Soulfinder to place them elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Leif raised his eyebrows.

“Into another body or to the sky.” I sighed. “We will have to find a place to protect and to hide them.”

“The Keep,” Bain said.

“The Illiais Jungle has some deep caves,” Esau suggested.

“Under the Emerald Mountains,” Irys said.

“Sunken in the deepest part of the sea,” Leif said.

“Buried under the northern ice,” Perl recommended.

“All good ideas, but the Council will need to debate the issue and decide.”

My gaze met Irys’s. She gave me a wry smile. We both knew the Council would argue for months, and it was up to me to find a home for them.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with my family. Perl and Esau made me promise to come visit them.

“A nice relaxing visit,” Perl ordered. “No chasing Vermin or saving anyone. We’ll sit and talk and I’ll make you a new perfume.”

“Yes, Mother.”

She made me eat before I could leave. I hurried to the training yard, hoping Valek would be there.

He was not. The man must be torturing me on purpose. I had made him wait over two months. Perhaps he was returning the favor.

Ari and Janco sparred with swords. And although Janco sang his rhymes and Ari used his brute strength, they were equally matched in skill. They stopped when they saw me.

“Come on,” Janco said. “Ari wants to make sure you’re in good fighting shape before we leave.”

“I do?”

“Yes, you do. Otherwise you’ll worry about her.”

“I will?”

“Of course.” Janco waved away Ari’s comments. “Besides, this is just a lull before the next storm. We need to be ready!”

This time I piped in. “The next storm?”

Janco sighed dramatically. “There’s always another storm. It’s the way the world works. Snowstorms, rainstorms, wind-storms, sandstorms and firestorms. Some are fierce and others are small. You have to deal with each one separately, but you need to always keep an eye on what’s brewing for tomorrow.”

Ari rolled his eyes. “Janco’s unique view of life. Yesterday he compared living to food.”

“That’s because some food leaves you full while others—”

“Janco,” I said. “Prepare for my storm.” I swept my bow toward his feet.

He jumped over it with a nimble grace. Dropping his sword, he reached for his bow and our match began.

Since I had returned from the underworld, I could see everyone with a new sight. With a blink of my eyes, I saw through their bodies and directly into their souls. I knew their thoughts, feelings and intentions as if they were my own. Before I had to pull power for the source and project myself to them. Now the connection was there the second I thought about it.

Janco’s comical surprise when I dumped him on the ground in three moves was almost worth my trip through the underworld. Almost.

He huffed and blustered and tried to make excuses. I stopped our second fight to guide a soul to the sky. Many hung around the Keep and I knew I would have to do a sweep of the Citadel.

Janco viewed my magical actions as if they were distasteful to him. “At least you’re expending energy. You’ll be easier to beat,” he smirked.

“Wishful thinking,” I said.

After losing the next four matches, Janco finally conceded.

“Am I ready for the next storm?” I asked him, smiling sweetly.

“You are the next storm.”

Bruised ego aside, Janco and Ari were pleased with my fighting skills.

“You found your center,” Ari said with a note of approval in his voice. “You’re not afraid to embrace who you are. Now Janco won’t have to worry anymore.”

“I’ll let Ari do all the worrying for both of us. Oh wait! He already does.”

“I do not. You’re the one who moaned and fussed about Yelena all these weeks.”

“I did not.”

They launched into another round of bickering. I never thought I would enjoy listening to them, but I did. Until I saw Cahil walking toward the training yard.

He held his long broadsword. I watched him approach, preparing to defend myself if need be. I studied his emotions with my other sight. Hate, determination and anxiety dominated his feelings.

Cahil stopped at the fence. “I didn’t come here to fight,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

Ari and Janco didn’t seem concerned by his presence, and continued their debate. But they hadn’t been on the wrong side of Cahil’s wrath. I moved closer with my bow in hand, keeping the wooden fence between us.

“What do you want to talk about?” I demanded.

Cahil pulled in a deep breath and let the air out fast. “I wanted to…”

“Go on. Say it.”

Irritation flared in Cahil’s light blue eyes, but he stifled it. “I wanted to explain.”

“Explain why you’re nasty, ruthless, opportunistic—”

“Yelena! Will you shut up.”

My expression must have warned him, because he rushed to continue. “You bring out the worst in me. Can you listen?” A pause. “Please?”

“All right.”

“When I found out that I didn’t have royal blood, that my whole purpose in life was a sham, I refused to believe it. Even when Marrok admitted I was just a soldier’s son, I didn’t want to hear it. Instead, I transferred my anger to you and Valek and decided I would find a way to make the Council support an attack on Ixia to reclaim the throne.” Cahil looked down at the sword in his hand. “You know what I did after. I lost my way and swallowed every morsel of Roze’s lies.”

Cahil handed me his sword. It had been the King of Ixia’s sword. Rescued after the King had been assassinated, the sword had been given to Cahil as part of the ruse to make him believe he was the King’s nephew.

“Give it to the Commander for me,” Cahil said. “By rights, it should be his.”

“Have you given up your desire to rule Ixia?”

He looked at me and I saw a renewed sense of purpose in his soul. “No. I still seek to free Ixia from the Commander’s strict rule. But I no longer feel I should inherit the throne. I plan to earn the privilege.”

“Then that’s going to make for some interesting discussions between us.” I held his gaze.

“You can count on it.”

The summons from Ambassador Signe came after a long soak in a hot bath. I exchanged my damaged cape and smoky clothes for a clean pair of cotton pants and shirt. My hair hadn’t grown while I was in the underworld. The inch-long strands, though, were long enough to lay flat on my head.

The Ambassador waited in the Keep’s administration building. She had the use of a meeting room and an office during her stay. I hurried up the stairs and into the marble building, hoping to see Valek there. My disappointment churned in my stomach and I wondered if Valek was avoiding me.

Ambassador Signe greeted me warmly, inquiring about my health. I studied her face. So similar to the Commander’s almost delicate features, yet missing the full force of the powerful spark residing in his gold eyes. With my new vision, I saw the two souls that struggled for dominance. They took turns, but I could see the red spiral of conflict within.

“Irys Jewelrose informed me you wish to resume your duties as Liaison. Is this true?”

“Yes. Becoming an adviser to the Commander is very tempting, but I feel my skills should serve both Ixia and Sitia by keeping relations open and fostering an understanding between the two nations.”

“I see. Then your first order of business should be to negotiate a salary.”

“A salary?”

“You can not be paid by the magicians or the Council. You must receive equal wages from Sitia and Ixia to maintain your neutrality.” She smiled. “For all that you have done recently, I would suggest you barter for a considerable amount.”

“Obviously, there are many things I need to think about in my new role.”

“I trust, then, your education is complete?”

I laughed. “There will never be a time when it’s complete, but I’ve reached an understanding with my abilities.”

“Good. I look forward to our negotiations.”

Before the Ambassador could dismiss me, I said, “I have something for the Commander.”

She looked at me expectantly.

“It’s with your guard. He wouldn’t let me bring it in.”

Rising from her desk, she opened the door and returned with the King’s sword.

“May I speak to the Commander?” I asked.

The transformation from the Ambassador to the Commander happened in a heartbeat. Even the physical features changed from a woman to a man. I had seen it before, but this time I watched with my other sight. It revealed much.

“What is this for?” the Commander asked. He studied the weapon in his hand.

“Cahil is returning it to you. You won the right to wield it over seventeen years ago.”

A thoughtful expression settled on his face as he placed the sword on the desk. “Cahil. What should I do about him?”

I told the Commander about his plans. “He could cause trouble for you in the future, although I hope my efforts will change his mind.”

“I know Valek would be happy to assassinate him.” He considered that scenario. “But he might prove useful, especially in dealing with the younger generation.” He saw my confused frown. “It’ll give them something to do.”

“Or give them someone to rally behind.”

“All part of the fun, I suppose. Is that all?”

“No.” I gave the Commander one of Opal’s glass animals.

He admired the tree leopard and thanked me for the gift.

“The glow you see is magic,” I said.

His gaze pierced me and I felt his sense of betrayal as if I poisoned him. He placed the statue on the desk. I explained why he could view the fire.

“I can see two souls within your body. Your mother didn’t want to leave you alone when she died so she stayed with you. Her magic lets you see the glow. And it’s her fear of discovery that has made you afraid of magic in all its forms.”

Commander Ambrose held his body as if any movement would crack it into a thousand pieces. “How do you know this?”

“I’m a Soulfinder. I find lost souls and send them to the sky. Does she want to go? Do you want her to go?”

“I don’t know. I…”

“Think about it. You know where to find me. There’s no time limit.”

I glanced back before I left. He stared at the tree leopard, lost in his thoughts.

Night had fallen while I talked with the Commander. Walking across the silent campus, I inhaled the warm breeze, soaking in the smells of life and the feel of air on my skin. I scanned my surroundings, searching for some sign of Valek.

Irys had lit all the lanterns in her tower. Even though she had given me three floors of the structure for my use, I found myself thinking about a salary, and my mind drifted to Valek’s cottage in the Featherstone lands. It would be nice to be close to Kiki and get away from the Council’s and Commander’s politics each night. The cottage was near the Ixian border, too. It would be neutral territory.

A place of my own. I couldn’t claim any room, cell or dwelling as my own. It would be the first time. My excitement grew.

I trudged up three floors of the tower to my bedroom. The sparse furnishings and layer of dust made for an unwelcoming sight, although the bedding was fresh.

I opened the shutters to let in clean air and felt a presence behind me. Without turning, I demanded, “What took you so long?”

Valek pressed against my back. His arms wrapped around my stomach. “I could ask you the same thing.” He spun me to face him. “I didn’t want to share you, love. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

He leaned in and kissed me. I drank in his essence, it soothed my soul.

Eventually, I pulled away, and laid my head on his chest, content to just feel his heartbeat against my cheek.

“That’s the second time I lost you,” he said. “You would think it would be easier, but I couldn’t douse the burning pain. I felt like my heart had been pierced by a spit and was cooking over a fire.”

His arms tightened around me as if he worried I would slip from his grip. “I would beg you to promise never to disappear again, but I know you won’t.”

“I can’t. Just like you can’t promise to stop being loyal to the Commander. We both have other duties.”

He huffed with amusement. “We could retire.”

“From being a Liaison, but not a Soulfinder. There are many lost souls to guide.”

Ever the analyst, Valek drew back enough to study me. “How many? It’s been a hundred-and-twenty-five years since Sitia crisped the last Soulfinder. Hundreds?”

“I don’t know. The Soulfinders documented in the history books were really Soulstealers. Guyan could have been the only one in the last two thousand years. Bain would delight in helping me with that assignment. But I will need to travel around Sitia and Ixia to help them all. Do you want to come? It could be fun.”

“You, me and a couple thousand ghosts? Sounds crowded,” he teased. “At least you already found one soul, love.”

“Moon Man’s?”

“Mine. And I trust you not to lose it.”

“The only magic to affect the infamous Valek.” It reminded me of a question I had. While in the shadow world, I had had plenty of time to contemplate every single facet of him. “How old were you when the King’s men killed your brothers?”

I ignored his questioning look. “How old?”

“Thirteen.” An old sorrow pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“That explains it!”

“Explains what?”

“Why you’re resistant to magic. Thirteen is around the age when people can access the power source. The trauma of seeing your brothers killed probably caused you to pull so much power you formed a null shield. A shield so impenetrable you can no longer access magic.”

“After a season in the underworld, you’re now an expert in all things magical?”

Although he was quick to dismiss the notion, the shock of the revelation was evident in his wide eyes.

“I’m an expert in all things Valek.”

“Analyze this, love.” He drew me in and kissed me.

When his hands pulled at the fabric of my shirt, I stopped him. “Valek, as much as I want you to stay, I need you to do a favor for me.”

“Anything, love.”

I smiled at his loyalty. He agreed without hesitation, without knowing what I needed. “I want you to steal those glass prisons. Hide them in a safe place where no one will find them. Don’t tell me or anyone else where you put them.”

“You don’t want to know. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I can still be corrupted by magic. And if I ever ask you for their location you are not to tell me. No matter what. Promise.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” I felt relieved.

“It may take me a few days or weeks. Where will you be?”

I told him about staying on as the Liaison. “I plan to commandeer a certain cottage in the Featherstone lands and declare that parcel of land neutral territory.”

“Commandeer?” He smiled.

“Yes. Having safe houses for Ixian spies in Sitia is not very friendly. Spying on each other is not conducive to the type of open dialogue I want between the two nations.”

“You’ll need to rebuild the stable. Hire a lad,” Valek teased.

“Don’t worry. I already have a houseboy in mind. A loyal and handsome fellow, who will be at my beck and call.”

Valek raised an eyebrow as desire danced in his eyes. “Indeed. I’m sure the boy is most anxious to attend to his duties.”

He slid a hand under my shirt and along my skin. Warmth spread across my stomach and chest. I tried to move away, but his other arm snaked behind my back. “You need to finish one job before you begin another,” I said.

“The night has just begun.” He pulled my shirt off. “Plenty of time to take care of my lady before I run her errand.”

His lips found mine, then he nuzzled my neck. “I must.” He paused to place a line of kisses down my chest. “Help my lady.” He picked me up and laid me down. “To bed.”

Then he removed the rest of my garments and all concerns about the glass prisons disappeared as Valek’s caress took control of my senses. My entire being focused on the musky smell and smooth feel of him. My lungs filled with Valek’s breath. My heart pumped Valek’s blood. I thought his thoughts and shared his pleasure.

The feelings of contentment, peace and joy flowed through our bodies. Locked tight together, we owned a piece of the sky.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-1458-7
Copyright © 2008 Harlequin Books S.A.

The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

Poison Study
Copyright © 2005 Maria V. Snyder

Assassin Study
Copyright © 2007 Maria V. Snyder

Magic Study
Copyright © 2006 Maria V. Snyder

Fire Study
Copyright © 2008 Maria V. Snyder

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