“Okay, it was a family of cats in the side alley.” Leif gave Devlen an odd look. “Seems they are...friends and wished to enter the factory.”
Opal laughed. “We’re having a problem with rodents in the factory and those cats are happy to take care of them for us.”
“And in exchange?” Leif asked.
“Food and a warm place to sleep the night,” Devlen said. “That big black tomcat has earned his keep many times over. He has taken down rats that are almost as big as him. We named him Valek, the rat assassin.”
I laughed. How fitting. “I’ll save him a piece of beef, then.”
Reema served the stew and quiet descended as we devoured the food. Between bites, Reema talked about school. “Today the class learned about percentages, but I already knew all about them, except I don’t call it by that fancy name. It’s a cut. No matter what you scored on the street, you always had to give a cut to the bullies or to the so-called landlords or to the officers to look the other way.” She scoffed. “I’m not learning anything.”
“You learned the word percentage,” Opal said.
Reema didn’t bother to reply. “And the other kids are so...so soft! Crybabies and whiners.” She pitched her voice higher. “Teacher, I spilled my milk. Teacher, she pushed me. Teacher, I’m a blubbering baby.”
Suppressing a laugh, I kept my expression neutral. Reema had grown up on the streets and survived by dodging the cruelties of that life and, in her mind, that was all she needed to know.
“Reema, that is enough,” Devlen said. “School is important.”
“For what? When is the history of Sitia ever going to be important?”
“I can answer that,” I said. “I thought the same thing when I first started my studies at the Keep. Master Bloodgood gave me so many history books to read, I thought I’d be crushed under them. And while reading them, I wished they had crushed me so I didn’t have to read anymore.”
“This isn’t helping, Yelena,” Opal said.
“But when I was struggling to understand my powers and terrified I was a Soulstealer, it was the information provided in those history books which led me to realize I was a Soulfinder. Big difference. That knowledge saved me from execution.”
Reema squinted at me as if not sure whether to believe me or not. Her dubious expression aged her and she looked years older than ten.
“It’s true,” Opal said. “I was there.”
“Well, I’d rather learn how to be a spy like Uncle Valek,” Reema said. “Do you think he’d take me on as his student?” she asked me.
Opal and Devlen held their breaths. Leif choked on his food.
“Only after you graduated from the Magician’s Keep.”
“You’re lying,” Reema said.
“Reema!” Opal and Devlen said at the same time.
I was unable to stop the laughter bubbling from my throat.
Once he caught his breath, Leif said, “Gotta love the honesty.”
“Yelena, we are trying to teach Reema manners and respect,” Devlen said.
“All right. Reema, you can be brutally honest with me and Uncle Leif at any time. However, you can’t accuse someone of lying. You first have to collect proof, and—”
“Yelena!”
This time Reema laughed as her adopted parents scolded me. Her humor died when Opal told her to get ready for bed.
“You’ll finish the story, right?” Reema asked me.
“Yes. I’ll give you a few minutes to get changed and I’ll be in. Where were we?”
“The curious Valmur was hanging from a vine by only one claw and a jungle cat waited below for him to fall.”
“Oh yes. Now go.” I shooed her away.
Reema hurried down the hallway leading to the washroom and bedrooms. The apartment contained only six rooms, kitchen, living area, washroom and three bedrooms. The office had been converted so each kid would have a room.
Once Reema disappeared into the washroom, I asked, “May I make a suggestion?”
“Of course,” Opal said.
“Perhaps Reema needs to be in a higher grade. That might challenge her.”
“The problem for her is that no one grade fits,” Opal said. “In some areas like math and street smarts, she’s well above her peers, but in others like history and reading...she’s well below. We thought it best to keep her with the other ten-year-olds.”
It made sense.
“And this way she’ll learn patience.” Opal cleared the table.
“I’m ready!” Reema called from the hallway. “Come on, come on!” She dashed into her room.
“Patience, eh? Good luck with that.” I ducked as Opal threw a dish towel at my head.
As I strode toward her room, I glanced at the intricate and beautiful stained-glass murals hanging on the walls. I had never appreciated the versatile aspects of glass until I met Opal. I lingered over one particular swirl of orange that curved into yellow, split into red and looped back, tracing the pattern with a finger. Lovely.
A dim light shone through the small gap between the door and jamb of Reema’s room. I pushed it wider as I stepped inside. And froze.
Reema’s bed was empty. The curtains billowed as a cold breeze blew in from the open window.
18
VALEK
Over the next two days, Valek read through all the files, discussed the smugglers with Ari’s team and assigned a new squad to the Commander’s personal security detail.
Happy with Ari and Janco’s strategy, Valek watched them depart the castle complex that morning. Janco and Onora headed south while Ari and Gerik went east. Janco had been in high spirits, and by the crease in Onora’s forehead, she would either kill him by the time they reached their destination or ditch him. If she was smart, she’d discover how useful he could be when he wasn’t driving a person to distraction and when he was—Janco was talented like that.
Valek returned to his office to finish preparing for his mission to MD-2. A light knock on the door interrupted him an hour later.
“Come in,” Valek said. He grasped the handle of his knife.
A young page entered. The boy held out a rolled parchment as if it was a shield. “Message for you, sir.” His voice quavered.
Valek took the message. “Thank you.”
The page nodded and bolted.
Amused, he broke the seal and unrolled the message. His grin widened when he realized the note was from Yelena. But soon his humor faded as he translated the text. The Sitian Council should be assassinated. He wished Yelena hadn’t talked him out of it when the Council had handed Sitia over to those Daviian Warpers. Why wouldn’t they warn her about Ben? Valek’s fingers twitched. A sharp knife pressed to a Councilor’s jugular would certainly help loosen his tongue.
Fear replaced anger when he finished reading the message. Yelena, Leif and another magician were headed to Fulgor—probably there by now. Despite the fact he couldn’t go, Valek calculated how fast he and Onyx could travel to Fulgor from here—about four and a half days. The Commander had ordered him to keep out of it, and besides...Yelena was more than capable of defending herself. Plus she had Leif and another magician. At least she was being smart and cautious for once.
Although the desire to assassinate the Council still pumped in his heart. It’d be so easy. He could kill every one of them in a single night. Valek already knew the location of all their apartments in the Citadel, thanks to his alter ego Adviser Ilom. While pretending to be Ambassador Signe’s aide six years ago, Valek had had plenty of time and opportunity to explore the Citadel. Time he hadn’
t wasted.
Assassinating all the soldiers who’d murdered his brothers hadn’t been easy. After Lieutenant Fester’s body had been discovered, security had increased and an investigation had been launched. Valek had kept a low profile and continued to gather intelligence about the soldiers in the garrison while working as a stable boy.
It took a full season for the guards to relax and lapse back into old habits. Valek carved more statues as he waited another couple of weeks just to let them get comfortable. And when Second Lieutenant Dumin returned early from his patrol the day before Sergeant Edvard left for his sweep, Valek celebrated. His patience had been rewarded and killing those two murderers in one night would be sweet.
When the sounds of the garrison settled into the nighttime quiet, Valek slipped from the stable and crossed the complex. So familiar with the layout, he could have navigated the way to the officers’ quarters blind.
As he scaled the outer wall, Valek remembered his brother Viliam, who had been the prankster of the family and the only one with gray eyes. The others had brown like their father and Valek’s blue was inherited from their mother. Dad liked to joke that he would accuse the mechanic of improper behavior, except Viliam’s twin, Victor, looked more like Dad. Of course, Dad wasn’t laughing when Viliam had booby-trapped a container of leather dye. Their father walked around with black hands and arms for two seasons. Viliam wisely kept out their father’s way during that time.
The image of Viliam’s shocked and confused expression as a sword pierced his heart replaced Valek’s fond memories. The weapon held by the soon-to-be deceased Second Lieutenant Dumin.
When he reached the fourth floor, Valek found Dumin’s window and paid the man a visit. Just like he had with Fester, Valek woke him and informed him of the reason he was about to die. And just like Fester, Dumin pointed the finger at Captain Aniol.
“Not good enough,” Valek said as he plunged his knife into Dumin’s chest, angling the blade so it slid between the ribs and pierced the man’s heart.
Cleaning the blood off his hands and blade on the blanket, Valek studied the dead man’s face in the moonlight. A sense of rightness pulsed in his chest. Talk about the ultimate prank. Valek believed Viliam would agree. He placed the statue of Viliam on Dumin’s chest.