The Study Series Bundle

by Maria V. Snyder

  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.