Hilly said, “The man sits in on most of the public Council sessions and he’s staying in number three-oh-six.”
“Do we want to have a look?” Janco asked.
Tempting, but rescuing Leif was my priority. “Let’s talk to Fisk first.”
“What about the person who took an interest in us when we left the Citadel?” Ari asked Hilly.
“It’s the same cat.”
I mulled over her comments. Could the cat be The Mosquito, reporting to Bruns Jewelrose? Then why didn’t the assassin try to kill me when I was locked in a cell? Probably because his prior attempt in the Fulgor jail hadn’t worked. And all he needed was patience. No doubt another opportunity to target me would arise.
Ari touched my sleeve. Concern creased his face. “That cat may have followed us here from the east gate.” Ari had chased the same logic as me.
“Unfortunately, Master Ari is correct,” Fisk said, entering the kitchen. “A man—or should I say your cat—is keeping an eye on the White Rose’s stables right now.”
I stood. “I’m so sorry, Fisk!”
“No need to apologize, Lovely Yelena. The man has been sniffing around here for the last three weeks. Seems he assumed that when you returned to the Citadel, you’d pay me a visit before being arrested.” A gleam of amusement touched Fisk’s light brown eyes. “Kudos to you for doing the...unexpected. It may have saved your life.”
“How?” Janco asked.
“Think about it,” Ari said.
Janco tapped his fork on the edge of the plate for a minute. “Oh. If we came straight here, he would have surprised us, but now we know his exact location, but he doesn’t know we know.”
“Not bad, Master Janco. I’d hire you if you were available. You could train under Hilly.”
The girl smirked at Janco and handed the six silver coins to Fisk. She curtsied to us. “Please let me know if I can be of any more assistance.” Then she left.
Fisk pocketed the coins. “Always wonderful to see you, Lovely Yelena, but I fear you bring us bad news?”
“Let’s talk in your office,” I said.
We trailed him down a long hallway that ended with a door. Fisk unlocked it and ushered us inside. The large two-story room also housed a living area and a loft above his office.
Janco sat in one of the two nubby red armchairs and Ari took the other. I perched on the edge of the black-and-white couch. A glass sculpture of two hands spread out like wings sat on the table between the two chairs. It was one of Opal’s magic detectors. Nothing flashed within its core, which meant no magic was in use. Plus Janco appeared to be relaxed.
Fisk remained standing, making him seem taller than his normal six feet. “What happened?”
No way to break this news gently. “Leif’s been taken.”
He gripped the back of the couch. “When? Where?”
I told him about the ambush.
“Oh, no.” Fisk sank to the couch. “I’d thought he’d be safe.”
“Why?” Ari asked.
“He has that...smell thing.”
“Doesn’t matter if they used null shields,” I said. They had their uses, but were a big problem when abused. A strange thought popped into my head. What if the Cartel did gain power over all the magicians? They’d be able to regulate those shields, but would they use them for the good of Sitia or for their own plans?
I shook my head. It didn’t matter, because we’d stop them. We had to. “Do you have any information about the disappearances?”
Fisk hesitated.
“I’ll pay you, of course.”
“No. It’s not that at all. Leif has aided me so much over the years, and I will do everything I can to help you rescue him.”
“Then what it is?”
He took a breath and met my gaze. “Not all the magicians are missing. A few of them are in hiding.”
20
VALEK
A storm brewed over the Sunset Ocean, and Valek had a day and a half to prepare. His theory about the Storm Thieves being the crew of the Starfish, which was reported lost at sea, meant they’d use this incoming storm to cover their approach to land. But many questions still remained. Which town did they plan to target? Would they use a dock or send a skiff to a beach? And then there was a good chance they wouldn’t arrive at all. It’d been three weeks since their last break-in.
Valek returned to the apartment on Cannery Road after supper. Endre snored in the bedroom and Annika worked at the inn. Valek reviewed the information gathered and the list of stolen items. Ignoring the jewelry and money, he concentrated on the others. He considered the basics—food, water, shelter.
Endre had said living on a boat would be difficult. If he assumed they’d found a place to live—a cove hidden in the cliffs, perhaps—then the Storm Thieves had enough supplies to build a couple structures. That covered shelter.
Fresh water was too essential to steal, so Valek figured their location had access to a stream or river that flowed toward the ocean. He checked the map of the coast and discovered that all of the rivers that emptied into the ocean had towns built around them. Which made sense for shipping supplies up the river to cities inland.
He considered the cliffs in MD-1. Would fresh water run under the cliffs and not be marked on the map? Possible. And no one would notice a settlement that was inaccessible by land. However, during the fishing season, they’d be visible to the fleet. Unless they used camouflage. And that would explain the fifty gallons of gray and green paint stolen from Krillow. The hidden cove moved to the top of Valek’s suspected location list.
As for food, the Storm Thieves had stolen basics like grain, rice, corn, flour, sugar, but they also took seeds and gardening supplies, which meant they planned to plant crops. No way a cove could sustain plants, unless it was huge. A sandy-rocky soil covered most of the coast, and farmable land started about ten miles inland. So much for the cove idea.
Valek tapped the map with a finger. He chased a memory of a conversation with one of the Stormdancers. Something about islands out in the Jade Sea... They were too small for a settlement because of the unpredictable storms. What if the Storm Thieves built their base on an island in the Sunset Ocean? With their magician keeping the storms at bay, they’d be safe. And no one would suspect they lived there.
Excited, Valek scanned the coastal map. Dozens of small islands were marked on the chart. It’d take seasons to check them all, and news would undoubtedly spread about the search, alerting the Storm Thieves, who could use a storm to keep the searchers from reaching their island. Plus they could have discovered an uncharted island. Deflated, Valek leaned back in the chair. Finding the island would be impossible.
He returned to the list of stolen items. What was missing? What did they need to sustain a settlement? Medical supplies had been taken from an infirmary in Coral Caye, casks of ale missing from a tavern in Lattice Beach, pots and glassware from a inn in Draggan and—
Valek shot to his feet. He flipped through the information Endre and Annika had collected, looking for the report on damages sustained during the storm thefts. Once he found it, he scanned the pages. A henhouse had collapsed during one storm and all the chickens had escaped. During another, a gate blew open and a dozen sheep had run away and had presumably drowned. Four milking cows had disappeared when a storm had knocked down a wall of a barn. What if these animals had been stolen instead? That meant the Storm Thieves still needed beef.
Once again Valek consulted the map. Where was the closest steer farm to the coast? He located one about three miles south of Gandrel and approximately a half mile inland. Gotcha!
When Annika returned and Endre woke up for his night shift, Valek ran his theory by them, seeking flaws in his logic.
“Those cliff coves aren’t big enough for livestock and crops,” Endre said.
“Are you sure there aren’t any missing steers listed in the reports?” Annika asked.
“I checked all the information twice,” Valek said. “But I’
ll read through the ones in the security office again tonight, and tomorrow I’ll see what the locals have to say about the islands.”
“You think they’ll strike tomorrow night?” Endre asked him.
“If not tomorrow, then during the next storm. The Stormers need to have all their supplies before the fishing season starts in twelve days. We need to be in position regardless.”
Valek spent another late night in the security office’s conference room. With his theory in mind, he scanned the incident reports looking for anything that would dispute his logic. Finding nothing, he returned to the inn for a few hours’ sleep before reporting to the dock to join the repair crew.
The waves no longer lined up like rolling pins. Instead, they titled to the right.
“The worst part of the storm’s gonna miss us,” Joey said.
“Heading north, right?” Valek asked, tying a knot. Disappointment slowed his movements. More time spent away from Yelena.
“Yup. But the one right behind it might blow over us.”
Valek paused. “Two close together? Is that usual?”
Joey cracked his knuckles. “Yup. They’re called twins. We get them from time to time. They either follow the same path, hitting the same place one right after the other—those we call identical—or they diverge and go separate ways.”
“Let me guess, those are called fraternal.”
“You catch on quick.”
Pug snorted. “Nothing quick about that, old man. Let’s see if he can guess what we call them when they hit the coast at the same time?”
“Conjoined?” Valek guessed.
“Nope. We call them double trouble, and you hope that your boat don’t sink and your house don’t blow away during one of those nasty buggers.” Pug shuddered. “Good thing they’re rare.”
“I’ve seen two in my lifetime,” Joey said. “That’s more than enough.”
“Can you tell where the second twin will strike?” Valek asked Joey.
“Not yet.”
Valek contained his impatience. He listened to their banter, their mild teasing and fish tales.
“...kid sunk like a stone, I had to fish him out with a net.”
“...caught them hiding under the sails, lazy buggers.”
“I spotted the wreckage in the water and I thought Smelly drowned, but we found ’im on Hook Island, sunnin’ hisself on the beach. He was pissed we got to ’im so fast. Old Smelly thought he’d get a vacation.” Joey coughed a chuckle.
“Could he have lived on the island?” Valek asked.
“For a couple days, sure, but he’d run through the food right quick. Nothing grows on them except berries, and you have to be real quick to catch one of them seabirds.”
“Do ships wreck on those islands often?”
“Sometimes in a storm, but the fleet avoids them in bad weather. We’ll check ’em when a ship’s been reported missing, but it’s rare we find anyone. Smelly’s an exception.”
“Yeah, he’s an exceptional stinker. The man eats nothing but raw fish,” Pug said.
Valek kept a comment about Pug’s briny odor to himself. “Do you check them all?”
“Nah. Just the ones in the fishing grounds,” Joey said.
“Does anyone use those islands?”
“Are you planning on building a vacation home?” Pug laughed. “If so, I’ve a deed I can sell you for ten golds.”
Valek shrugged, playing down his interest. “Just making conversation.”
“Ignore Pug,” Joey said. “Those islands are only good for a rest or when you have to make repairs. A few have fresh water, but no one stays for long. Even a mild hot-season storm can swamp ’em and you’re swimming.”
“Or clinging to the treetops. Remember we found Fawlon tied to a branch?” Pug asked.
“Oh, yeah. Smart fellow, Fawlon. Too bad he died of thirst.”
As they traded stories of other poor fellows, Valek mulled over the information. It seemed the Storm Thieves could live on an island as long as they had a magician to keep their settlement from being swamped. A Stormdancer would have to be back in Sitia by the heating season or the dancer would be missed. Was it another magician from Sitia or someone new? Joey said the crew of the Starfish was young.
What if one of those teens developed magic? Magic wasn’t tolerated in Ixia, so the person had one of two options: escape to Sitia, or hide his or her power from everyone. But then there was the chance the person would grab too much magic and flame out. According to Irys, only those with amazing self-control could prevent that without any training.
If nothing happened during the storms, Valek planned to investigate all the crew members. It was a tiresome, tedious chore, but it might uncover a clue to the Storm Thieves’ whereabouts.
After the fishermen rolled up the repaired nets, Joey pointed a crooked brown-spotted finger out to sea. “The first storm’s headin’ for the cliffs. But it looks like his twin is turnin’ toward us. It’ll hit tomorrow night, but I’ll know better in the mornin’.” He patted Valek on the shoulder and lowered his voice. “You catch those Stormers, boy. They’re a nuisance.” Then he limped across the street to the tavern.
So much for being subtle. Janco’s incredulous voice sounded in his head. An old man saw right through your cover? You’re slipping, boss. Good thing Janco was in Sitia with Yelena.
Valek stopped at his room to grab his pack before returning to the apartment. When Endre woke and Annika arrived, he reviewed his plan with them.
“I’m going north to keep an eye on the storm just in case. I want you both to watch the steer farm tonight. Get familiar with the layout of the barn, fields and the route to the coast. It’d be easier without a storm raging.”
“Yes, sir,” they said.
Endre rubbed his stomach. “If we want to keep our covers, we need an excuse for leaving work early.”
“Not...” Annika covered her mouth with her hand.
“I’m not happy about it, either,” he said.
“If it’s any consolation,” Valek said, “you only need three drops on your tongue, and it’ll wear off in half an hour.”
Endre rummaged in one of the kitchen’s cabinets and removed a small glass vial filled with a brownish-yellow liquid. He crinkled his nose. “It even looks like vomit. Where do you find this stuff, sir?”
Valek grinned. “I’ve a source in Sitia who makes it for me.” Leif always brewed potent concoctions, but he never bothered to improve the taste or smell. “Take the vomit tonic right before you leave. It will kick in once you’re at work.”
“Kick in?” Annika gave him a pained look.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
* * *
After the moon disappeared behind the thick bank of storm clouds, Valek headed north along the coast, following the waves. Since it was too dark to see the path, he carried a bull’s-eye lantern and kept a small beam of light trained on the ground in front of him. He peered into the inky blackness of the ocean, searching for a ship’s light. Nothing.
The edge of the storm reached land. Rain tapped against his black cloak. The castle’s seamstress, Dilana, had soaked the material in a liquid wax to help repel water, but Valek had learned from experience that, with enough time, it would become waterlogged.
Gusts of wind blew ashore, flapping his cloak and threatening to extinguish the lantern’s flame. Even though he pulled the hood over his head, the salty spray stung his eyes and burned his nose.
The rolling sand dunes along the coast turned rocky and steep. A blast of air from the north meant the cliffs must be ahead, deflecting the storm’s wind. Even though he was unable to spot the sheer bluffs in the darkness, their massive presence loomed over him.
Valek retreated, finding a spot that he’d pick if he was on a boat and searching for a place to land. Then he hunkered down, closed the lantern’s slide and waited.
He wondered what Yelena, Ari and Janco had discovered about the glass-house plants. It had been thirteen days s
ince they parted. Was she on her way to the rendezvous point? Worry for her and the baby swirled.
At least she hadn’t reached him with one of her desperate mental calls. Thrice before, she had been in dire trouble in Sitia and reached for him in a blind panic. Her frantic fear had ripped through him like a giant monster’s sharp claws. Each time, he’d opened himself to her, loaning his strength and immunity to her across the miles. It had saved her life, and those times had been the only ones where they magically connected. Except now... His blood ran cold. Without her magic, would Yelena be able to reach him? Probably not.
What the hell was he doing here? Crouching in the rain, hoping to spot a gang of young thieves. Was this important to him? No. Catch these thieves and more would just pop up someplace else. He needed to be with his wife, even if she wasn’t in danger. He’d let his job keep them apart for far too long. All he had to do was retire, and once free of the Commander’s orders, he’d assassinate Owen.
Valek stood and wiped rain from his eyes. He turned and halted. A sigh escaped his lips. As much as he wished to go, he’d never leave a job unfinished. He revised his to-do list. Catch the Storm Thieves, retire, assassinate Owen. He returned to his position and tried not to fret over Yelena. After all, she was resourceful and smart. Plus Ari and Janco would never let her out of their sight.
Hours later, a light bobbed on the water. Valek watched it with keen interest. The light broke into two points. The second one appeared to head for shore. As it drew closer, it clarified into four lanterns. The yellow glow revealed a large rowboat with four figures rowing and four others holding the lights. When they reached the shallow water, the rolling waves around the boat smoothed flat. Valek squinted. No rain or wind buffeted the craft, either. Sticky magic pressed on Valek. One of those eight must be the magician. Despite his earlier claims of not caring about these thieves, excitement warmed his chest.
Night Study Page 22
