“Come on, sis, you’re exhausted. You’ll think better tomorrow. I’ll fetch you supper.”
Leif escorted me to the white room. The goons trailed us, but remained in the hall. Probably taking up flanking positions by the door, which Leif closed.
“Don’t bother bringing me any food,” I said. “I’ll find my own.”
“You’re being paranoid. Bruns is—”
“Killing magicians, hiring assassins, kidnapping people and committing treason.”
He glowered at me.
“You tasted the Theobroma. Come on, Leif, think about it.”
“You’re wrong.”
I almost groaned in exasperation. “Okay, then prove it. Stop eating the food for a couple days and see if you still feel the same way about Bruns.”
Leif gasped. “Stop eating?”
“At least find food that isn’t tainted by Theobroma. Can you do that for me?”
He met my gaze. “And if I prove you wrong, will you join Bruns?”
“Yes.”
* * *
Over the next three days, I tested the limits of my imprisonment. The goons bookended me whenever I left my room and kept within two paces of me at all times. Leif brought our meals to my room. It was mostly fruit and raw vegetables—the only edibles not tainted with Theobroma. He ate with me and griped about the food, but he was determined to prove me wrong.
Even with all the various war preparations going on, I spent most of my time in the armory. A number of the new weapons fascinated me, and I practiced with a few at the range. It was amusing to see the goon brothers so tense and ready to tackle me should I aim a weapon at them. Amusing and infuriating, since they completely blocked any opportunity for me to escape.
I also had to fight against the constant barrage of positive thoughts about Bruns and his efforts. Suspecting a magician able to mentally communicate these good feelings to everyone, I asked Leif about it when he brought supper that night.
“I didn’t notice it before, but...”
“But what?”
“Oh, for sand’s sake! You were right. Since I’ve been Theobroma-free, it stinks big-time.” He speared a piece of broccoli with his fork. “Happy now?”
“Yes!” Relief flowed through me. “What’s been going on?”
“There are magicians arriving daily who are already on Bruns’s team. I’m guessing his recruiters are using Theobroma to convince them.”
That was disturbing. “How is he getting to them?”
“Probably the same way he’s doing it here, by spiking their food.”
“Do you know where we are?” I asked.
“Krystal Clan’s garrison, near the coast.”
“Do you know where the other training areas are?”
“No. But I’ve been Bruns’s best buddy, and I’m hoping to be part of his inner circle soon. He’s assigned me to convince you to be on our side, so you’re going to have to spout the bullshit to keep my cover.”
“Can’t wait,” I said drily.
“I hope you’re a better actress than that, little sis, or we’re all in trouble.”
As we finished our meals, I had an idea. “Is there any way to swap the Theobroma for a substance that tastes like it, but doesn’t have the same magical properties?”
“I wish. Theobroma is one of a kind.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“I suggest you play nice, show up for meals and pretend to be influenced by Bruns.”
“Then what?”
“We gain his trust and find the chink in his armor. Then we send a message to Ari and Janco and Irys.”
It sounded easy, except... “We can’t eat the food in the dining room.”
“But I can’t keep coming here. Bruns is getting suspicious.” Leif rubbed his chin. “And frankly, I’m sick of eating nothing but fruit and vegetables. I’m friends with Alvar, the chef—let me see what I can do.” He stood, squeezed my hand and turned to go.
I made a quick decision. “Leif.”
“Yes?”
“Make sure you get plenty of food. I’m eating for two.”
He jerked as if I’d slapped him. Then a range of emotions crossed his face—surprise, excitement, worry and then concern. “You shouldn’t have risked the baby for me!”
“I couldn’t not try to rescue you.”
Leif wrapped me in a hug. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Congrats, sis. Does Valek know?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’d better escape before he sends the entire Ixian army to rescue you.”
* * *
The next morning I met with Leif in the dining room. He had two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon waiting for me. I thanked him before shoveling the food into my mouth. Leif filled me in on how he’d offered to help Alvar with the morning rush and managed to snag a few servings of eggs before they were glazed with a special sauce.
“Holy snow cats! There’s Dax Greenblade.” Leif gazed over my shoulder.
I crushed my napkin in my hands to keep from turning around. Was he captured? “Does he have goons with him?”
“No. Just a goofy smile, and he’s heading this way.” Leif leaned forward. “Remember, we love Bruns.”
“Leif! Yelena! So this is where you two have been hiding,” Dax said. “I should have known you’d be where all the action is.”
I glanced way up at the tall man with light green eyes. For him, I didn’t need to fake a smile. He’d been my first friend when I’d been a student at the Magician’s Keep. “Hi, Dax! Did you just arrive?”
“Yup. Isn’t this place great? Much better than that stuffy old Keep, where we don’t do anything but study. What a waste of time. Now we can contribute to the welfare of Sitia.”
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” The words tasted like ash on my tongue.
“That looks yummy,” Dax said. “I’m famished.”
I grabbed his wrist before he could leave. “You can have the rest of mine. It’s still warm.”
“Great.” He dug into my plate with abandon.
“So how did you hear about this place?” I asked.
“One of the students, I think,” Dax said between mouthfuls. “This is good, but not as good as the Keep’s.”
“Really?” Leif asked.
“Yeah. We got a new chef and her dishes are...divine!”
Nausea bubbled in my stomach. I met Leif’s equally horrified gaze. If Bruns had managed to put Theobroma into the food at the Keep...
“I don’t remember a new chef,” Leif said. “When did she start?”
“Oh, a couple weeks ago, I think.” He shrugged, oblivious to our alarm.
I sagged back in my chair. Everyone at the Keep ate their meals at the dining room, including Irys and Bain, the two most powerful magicians in Sitia.
Leif used a series of subtle hand signals, telling me to stick to the plan.
I replied, What plan?
Get Bruns to trust us.
And then?
We stop him.
That’s not a plan.
Do you have anything better?
No.
Discouraged, I said goodbye to Leif and Dax. I scanned the faces in the dining room as I left, searching for more magicians from the Keep. I recognized four others. At this point, I thought only the Commander’s army could stop Bruns. But what if he couldn’t?
I was so preoccupied, I tripped and sprawled on the floor.
Before my goons could help me, another soldier swooped in and lifted me to my feet. “Are you all right?” he asked.
I met Janco’s gaze without visibly reacting. Inside, my heart was doing a jig. “Yes. Just a bit clumsy.”
“Not your fault—there are lots of people in here. It’s hard to move.”
My depression lifted. Help had arrived! “All the better for when we go to war.”
“True. Bruns will lead us to victory.”
I took a step, but wobbled and fell into Janco, who caught me with ease. He’d dyed his hair re
d and wore a fake ear that covered his scars.
“Don’t eat the food,” I whispered in his good ear before straightening. “Guess I must have tweaked my ankle.” I gestured to my goons and let them support me as I limped from the dining room. Ha! How’s that for acting!
My elation over seeing Janco faded as I realized that even with more people on our side we still didn’t have a clue how to stop Bruns.
* * *
Bruns joined me in the armory the next day. I’d been practicing using one of the new blowpipes that had scoring in the barrel to improve accuracy and distance. Too bad the dart wasn’t filled with poison. That would have been a quick way to solve the problem of Bruns.
“I heard you twisted your ankle. How are you doing?” Bruns asked.
I smiled at him. “That’s so sweet of you to ask. It was a minor sprain. Nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t take care of.”
“Wonderful. Leif tells me you’ve changed your mind about me,” Bruns said.
It about killed me, but I stretched my lips wider and beamed at him. “Yes, I was being so silly. I mean, once I thought about it, I wondered why I would protect the Commander when he fired me as the Liaison.”
“Oh? I hadn’t heard that. Let’s go to my office and have a little chat.”
“All right.”
With his arm linked in mine as if we were old friends, he led me to the main administration building in the center of the garrison. Before entering, Bruns ordered my goons to remain outside. As we climbed to the top floor, I searched my memory for any bits of information that I could give to Bruns about the Commander.
We arrived at a waiting room, complete with a pretty secretary. She handed him a stack of papers and mentioned a number of people who had been looking for him.
“I’ll deal with them later. Can you bring us a pot of tea, please?”
She jumped to her feet. “Yes, sir.”
Opening a door behind her desk, Bruns escorted me into his vast office. It occupied the rest of the fifth floor. The sleek furniture was made of ebony wood. My boots sank into lush carpets, and the opulent paintings had gold frames. Floor-to-ceiling windows covered the entire back wall. Unable to resist, I gazed at the view. Sunlight glinted off the Jade Sea in the distance. Right below were the training yards and armory.
“Did you buy the garrison?” I asked, pressing my hand on the glass.
“No. Councilor Krystal agreed that we needed to prepare for war and offered it to me.”
“How many other Councilors are helping you?”
“I believe I’m supposed to be asking the questions.” Bruns’s voice held a dangerous tone.
Uh-oh. I turned. “Sorry! I shouldn’t ask such obvious questions. Of course all the Councilors support you. You’re going to save Sitia.”
Bruns relaxed. “Sit down, Yelena.”
I sat in one of the leather armchairs. The dark maroon color reminded me of dried blood. Bruns tossed the papers on his desk before sitting across from me.
“Do you know where Valek is?” he asked.
An easy question. “Not exactly. When we parted, he was headed to the coast of MD-1 to deal with Storm Thieves.”
“How long ago was that?”
I calculated. “Twenty-three days.”
“Do you think that’s enough time for him to finish?”
“I don’t know. It depends on how smart the thieves are.”
“Is it possible that he followed you to Sitia instead of going to the coast?”
“Uh...” That would mean he’d lied to me. Valek might not tell me everything, but he wouldn’t lie to me. “It’s possible, but not probable.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re still alive.” Even though it was the truth, I regretted the comment as soon as it left my mouth.
Bruns stilled. “I see.”
Thank fate his secretary entered with the tea. She set the tray on the table between us and poured two cups.
“Thank you, Tia.”
She gave him a bright smile and left the room.
“Shall we toast?” Bruns picked up his cup.
I grabbed the other and held it up.
“To honesty, no matter how brutal,” he said.
An odd toast, but I tapped my cup against his and sipped the hot liquid, which tasted strongly of Theobroma. I set it down.
Bruns questioned me about losing my magic and what I’d learned. Again, I didn’t see a reason to lie. “I’ve no idea what happened.”
We discussed potential causes. I’d explored all of them before, but I figured my openness would reinforce my I’m-on-your-side act.
“Is there something wrong with the tea?” Bruns asked.
“It’s a little too hot.”
“It should have cooled by now.”
I picked it up and sipped a tiny bit. “You’re right.” Holding the cup, I rested my right arm in my lap.
Bruns surged to his feet. “Do you really think I’m an idiot?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your guides are very observant. It didn’t take us long to guess why Leif always brought food to your room. I suspected when you first woke. As the Commander’s food taster, you must have a sensitive palate. You can stop the act.” Without warning, he grabbed my left wrist and pain pierced my forearm.
A dart was stuck in my skin. “What...?”
“I believe you call it goo-goo juice. Leif unarmed you while you were sleeping and gave me all your nasty darts filled with Curare, sleeping potion and goo-goo juice.”
My head spun as fear clawed my stomach. I set the tea on the table to avoid spilling it in my lap.
Bruns knelt in front of me. “Now, let’s talk.”
26
VALEK
Valek stared at his father and then at the young man next to him. The one who resembled his dead brother Vincent. Or rather, how he would have looked if Vincent had lived four or five more years. And it clicked why Zohav and Zethan seemed so familiar. His parents had more children after he’d left.
Strong emotions strangled Valek, rendering him mute. He hadn’t seen his father since he was thirteen and left to seek revenge for the murder of his brothers. Since his parents told him never to return.
“Dad, what’s going on? Who is he?” the young man asked again.
Valek’s father ignored the questions. He walked toward Valek with his brown-eyed gaze locked on him and as paralyzing as Curare. Gray had replaced his once-black hair, and wrinkles lined his leathery face. A part of Valek noted that he wore a tanner’s uniform as required, but various colored dyes had stained the white diamonds.
Relaxing his grip on the hilt of his sword, Valek dismounted and stood at the gate. He clamped down on the maelstrom of shock, pain, fear and grief that raged inside him. Instead, he channeled the calm detachment he’d learned to rely on during times of great danger.
When his father reached the other side of the gate, he opened it and said, “Welcome home, son.”
Those three words slammed into him. He rocked back on his heels, and only Onyx’s solid body behind him kept Valek upright.
“Son? What are you talking about?” the young man asked. His voice squeaked with alarm.
“This is Valek, the Commander’s chief of security and your older brother,” his father said. “Valek, this is Zebulon.”
Zebulon’s shocked expression meant his...their father hadn’t mentioned Valek before. And he wondered if Father had told him about Vincent, Viliam and Victor.
Just then his mother yelled from the house, “Kalen, Zeb, get in here! The twins are back! They’re alive!”
Without a word, both men bolted to the house. Valek sagged against Onyx, glad for the few minutes to collect his wits, which had scattered when his father called him son. Completely unexpected, the word woke the small boy who had hidden deep down inside him. The child who craved his parents’ love and approval and wished to be held and comforted. And although he tried to shove that young boy back i
nto his slumbering coma, the damage was done. Valek suddenly needed Yelena’s touch and her strength. With her support, he could endure this encounter. Without it—he might lose control of everything.
Valek pulled in a few deep breaths, knowing he didn’t have much time before the entire family came spilling from the house. No matter what happened, the twins still needed to go to Sitia. However, he suspected leaving after only a few hours would be impossible for all concerned.
As predicted, five people streamed from the house. His mother led the way straight toward him. She held a large kitchen knife and her expression was not welcoming. Not at all. Anger and determination emanated from her blue eyes—the mother bear protecting her cubs. She’d saved his life. And the nail-shaped scars still marked his shoulder from when she had held him back from attacking the soldiers who’d murdered his brothers.
Valek fought the instinct to grab his knives in the face of her charge. The others shouted after her to stop and think and calm down, but her stride never wavered. She halted on the other side of the open gate and brandished her weapon. The others fell silent, or rather held their collective breaths.
“You will not harm my children. You will not take them away,” she said.
“I have no intention of harming them.” Glad his voice didn’t shake, he added, “Now that I know who they are, I will ensure they are protected once they’re in Sitia.”
“What do you mean, now that you know?” Mother demanded. “You’ve known all along.” She gestured with the knife. “You’ve sent your spies to watch us since the takeover.”
“I sent them to protect you, not spy on you. They are only to report if someone comes after you because of me. Not about your personal life.” Valek glanced at his three...siblings. “And I take it you didn’t tell your new children about your old children?”
“They know about the others, but not you. You’re an assassin. The Commander’s killer. Everyone hates and fears you—they didn’t need to know they are related to an abomination.”
The word sliced into him. He encouraged others to feel that way about him, but hearing it from his mother had an unexpected impact. Recovering, he asked, “And how did you explain my agents?”
“We made them part of our family. The kids and the neighbors think we hired them,” his father said.
Night Study Page 29
