After supper, Ransley escorted Valek to the guest quarters. The two-room suite contained a bedroom and a living room. The lanterns had been lit and a fire danced in the small fireplace. Comfortable and clean. Valek approved.
“Colonel, while I’m investigating I’ll leave my horse here, and I’ll also need to borrow a couple uniforms.” His black-and-red adviser’s uniform would stand out among the black-and-white colors of MD-1. Each Military District had its own color combined with black.
“Of course. I’ll be happy to provide anything you need.”
Valek thanked Ransley as he ushered the man out the door. Changing into his sneak suit, Valek slipped from the guest quarters and ghosted through the garrison’s buildings. He found a comfortable and hidden location to watch the back gate. He’d divulged his mission to his fellow dinner guests for a reason. And, after a few hours, the reason approached the gate and talked to the guards, who laughed and waved him through.
Too easy. Valek slid from his hiding spot and followed the man, certain he’d lead him right to the Storm Thieves.
A half-moon peeked from behind a layer of thin clouds, casting enough light to navigate the narrow road. Aside from the occasional glance over his shoulder or the infrequent times he stopped to listen to the night’s sounds, the man didn’t appear concerned about the possibility of being tracked as he headed straight to the coast.
The familiar cool scent of salt air reached Valek before the distant crash of waves. The expected turn to the southern towns didn’t happen. Interested, Valek closed the distance between them so he wouldn’t lose his quarry. After a few more hours, Valek guessed the man’s destination. Clever. Very clever.
Sure enough, near dawn, the man entered the outer boundary of the School of Night and Shadows. Or what had once been the school. When the Commander took over Ixia, work for assassins in Ixia had dwindled. Hedda eventually closed the school instead of taking the offer to work with Valek and the Commander. But they’d recently discovered from Onora that Hedda hadn’t retired, and had actually been training a few students.
Fresh grief for his old teacher rose. Onora had killed Hedda. Probably because she wouldn’t divulge the name of the client who had hired an assassin to target the Commander.
Memories stirred as Valek kept the man in sight. When he’d first arrived on Hedda’s doorstep, the school had plenty of students. Now the place appeared deserted—although he doubted it was. In fact, this location would be a perfect spot to run another illegal operation, like stealing during storms.
The man disappeared into the main building. In this part of MD-1, cliffs lined the Sunset Ocean, and Hedda had built her school to resemble the rocky terrain, painting all the structures in the complex to blend in with the surrounding grayish-white landscape.
The sky brightened as dawn’s first rays chased away the blackness. Valek looped around to a little-known entrance. From the undisturbed and thick coating of salt and rust on the combination lock, he guessed no one had come through here in years. Good thing the corrosive salt air eventually turned metal brittle. Valek broke the lock in two and slipped inside.
He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Voices bounced off the stone walls. Concentrating, he detected two speakers, but the words were garbled. Valek tracked the conversation until he understood the speech. He listened next to an open door. Yellow lantern light spilled into the hallway.
“...no one followed me. Stop worrying so much,” a man said in a placating tone.
“You’re an idiot. You just killed me,” a woman responded with a twang that Valek would never forget.
“Relax. Valek’s not here for you, but I thought you’d like to know he’s in the area,” the man said.
Valek stepped into the room, surprising the man, but not Hedda.
“I’m closer than you think. And she’s right,” Valek said. “You are an idiot.” Then he turned to his former teacher.
Hedda stood behind her desk with a knife already in her hand. All but a few fiery red strands of her hair had turned gray. Wrinkles etched her forehead and drew her mouth into a frown.
“Hello, Hedda.” Unconcerned about the blade, Valek strode closer. “Nice to see you alive and well.”
She inclined her head politely. “King Killer.” Her grip tightened on her weapon. “Did the Commander send you?”
15
LEIF
“They’re trying to grow Theobroma-resistant Curare?” Leif repeated. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Esau said. “This...” He waved the thin branch. Its oval-shaped leaves bounced with the motion. “...is a crossbreed of the Theobroma tree and the Curare vine. If this grows pods, the Theobroma seeds might contain Curare. If you press those seeds, you might get a Curare that can’t be neutralized by Theobroma.”
Sitia’s army would be unable to defend itself against the paralyzing drug. The Commander’s soldiers could invade without any resistance. The thought of having to wear a uniform and obey his Code of Behavior soured Leif’s stomach. “So you don’t know if they’ve been successful?”
“I’d have to wait until it produces pods that are ready to be harvested, and then test it.” Excitement raised Esau’s voice at the prospect.
Leif studied the specimen. Owen had escaped this compound but was unable to take these plants with him. However, he’d cleaned out his other hothouses. This might be the only sample they had. “How long until the pods are ready?”
“Oh, I’d say about...three, maybe four years.”
Somehow, Leif didn’t think Owen or the Commander would give them those years. But then again, it would take Owen the same amount of time to supply his men with the resistant Curare.
“What about the other crossbreed plants?” he asked his father.
“One at a time, my boy. One at a time. Is that dinner?” Esau gestured to the tray Leif held.
“Supper, Father. You worked through dinner.” Leif set the tray on the ground. “When it gets dark, come inside the farmhouse. I’ll have a bath ready for you.”
Already chewing on an apple, Esau nodded, but his gaze had returned to the greenery surrounding him. Leif left, knowing he’d have to return and fetch his father or the man would work through the night. When his father immersed himself in a project, Leif’s role was simple—take care of Esau’s needs.
Esau decided he needed to catalog all the plants in the hothouse, along with the investigation of the crossbreeds. Over the course of a few days he determined that Owen’s gardener had crossed a few medicinal plants.
“Very clever,” Esau said. “This way one plant will take care of two symptoms. Less to pack!”
“Do you recognize the person who did the crossbreeding?” Leif asked. “Is it someone from our clan?”
“No to both questions. However, I suspect it is someone from the Greenblade Clan. They have forest experts who have been crossbreeding trees to grow a harder wood for buildings.”
“But how are they getting the jungle plants?”
“We can’t patrol the entire jungle, Leif. Curare and Theobroma grow all over and are just as accessible at the border of the Cowan Clan’s lands as well as deep in the interior.”
At least it wasn’t one of their clan members. Small comfort. He’d hoped his father would recognize the gardener helping Owen.
Esau spent a total of six days working in the hothouse. On the last day, he shouted for Leif, who’d been grooming Rusalka. Leif raced to join his father. Esau had leaves caught in his hair and dirt stained his forearms, forehead and knees.
“Come see what I found!” Esau grabbed his elbow and tugged him inside the hothouse. “Back here. I almost missed it.”
Leif crouched down to avoid being smacked in the face by a branch. Near the back right corner, Esau pulled him to his hands and knees, and they crawled the rest of the way.
Esau stabbed a finger at a Theobroma tree. “See that?”
“Yes. So?”
His father pointed to what appeared to be a
large knot on the lower trunk “Look! This is where another Theobroma tree has been grafted onto this tree.”
“Okay. What’s so special about that?”
Esau huffed. “It means that this second tree doesn’t need as much time to mature as the first one because the roots and trunk are already established.” When Leif failed to produce an appropriate reaction, he continued, “It means that instead of waiting three to five years for the Theobroma tree to mature and produce pods, it will grow pods in just a year.”
Wow. That meant... “And will double the number of trees growing pods?” Leif asked.
“Exactly!”
“Increasing the production of Theobroma is what the Council has asked Bavol to accomplish.”
“Then message Bavol and tell him to come here. He needs to see this!”
And it also implied Owen’s stock of Theobroma may be twice the amount they’d estimated. Had he sent it to the Commander along with the Curare? What if Owen used the grafting to grow Theobroma-resistant Curare? Would they be able to use the Theobroma after they extracted the Curare? Leif asked his father.
“It’s possible, but I won’t know for sure until the trees mature.”
Leif hurried to the farmhouse to contact Irys and ask her to talk to Bavol. Before he reached the porch, a voice called his name. A young messenger stood outside the gate waving a sealed envelope. He thanked the girl and tipped her. The scent of lavender tickled his nose, and the part of him reserved for worrying about his sister relaxed a fraction. He waited until he was inside before ripping it open.
After reading the first sentence, his concern returned, along with fear. Owen was a guest of the Commander, staying at the castle in Ixia. With Yelena! She was supposed to be safe there with Valek. Instead she was in just as much danger as when Owen had captured her.
Leif raced up to his room. He pulled the super messenger from his pack and sat on the edge of his bed. Drawing on the magic inside, he reached for Irys. She allowed him through her defenses right away.
Good timing, Leif. I was just about to contact you. Do you have any news?
Plenty, he said. Leif filled her in on what he’d learned from Yelena. I’m going to Ixia. Send Hale and two other magicians and have them meet me at Yelena’s cabin in the Featherstone lands. Do you know where it is?
Did she ask for help?
No, but neither she nor Valek can defend against Owen, Rika and Tyen.
I’m sorry, Leif, but I can’t spare the magicians. In fact, the Council has ordered you back to the Citadel again. They want your report in person.
But Yelena—
Must be safe, or else she wouldn’t have sent you that message. You need to convince the Council of the danger.
If I return to the Citadel, it will be to gather magicians to travel with me to Ixia. Yelena’s helped so many people, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of volunteers.
Talk to the Council first, and then I’ll help you recruit.
Irys’s desperation shrilled in his mind like an out-of-tune violin.