The Study Series Bundle

by Maria V. Snyder

  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 barrack
s 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.