Poison Study

by Maria V. Snyder

  “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 f
or 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 comp
lete 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.