PROLOGUE – LEIF
Rusalka’s gait changed, waking Leif from a light doze. He straightened in the saddle and peered around. Distant lantern lights flickered in the cold night wind. Fulgor, the capital of Moon Clan’s lands, appeared to be about an hour’s ride away.
Leif petted Rusalka’s sweaty neck. “Well done, girl.” If she’d been another breed of horse and not a Sandseed, they wouldn’t have reached Fulgor for another full day at least. “Extra milk oats for you.”
His stomach grumbled. “And for me…” He mulled over the inns and taverns in Fulgor, comparing cooks and chefs. Most of his favorites would be asleep by now, but Reilly might still be awake. “The Weir Inn, please, Ru.”
Only a few souls braved the icy breeze snaking through the cobblestone streets of Fulgor. The smell of burning coal, wood smoke and manure laced the air. Three more weeks until the cold season started. Having grown up in the steamy Illiais Jungle, far to the south, Leif disliked this bitter weather. He pulled his cloak tighter as they passed the jumble of businesses, factories and houses that lined the road.
Halfway to the inn, he dismounted and walked beside Rusalka to cool her down before they entered the clean stables behind the inn. Waving off the stable boy, Leif rubbed Rusalka down, fed her the promised milk oats and filled the buckets in her stall with water and feed.
“Will you be staying long, sir?” the stable boy asked.
“Just a couple days.” Leif flipped him a silver coin. “Take extra good care of her, will ya?”
“Yes, sir.”
He draped his saddlebags over his shoulder and headed inside. A couple people lingered in the main dining room, drinking ale and talking in low voices.
The innkeeper smiled at him. “Mister Leif, so nice to see you again.”
“Hello, Sarah, do you have an empty room I can rent?”
“Oh, yes.” She took his bags and his cloak and handed him a key.
“Is Reilly in the kitchen?”
“I believe so, but you’d better hurry.”
He didn’t hesitate. Pushing through the wooden doors, Leif entered the pulsing warmth. A bouquet of divine smells greeted him. Spicy, tangy, sweet and sharp odors floated on the air. Leif breathed in deeply and his stomach rumbled in anticipation.
The chef, Reilly Moon, mixed batter in a large silver bowl. He glanced up at the sound. “Kitchen’s closed.”
“In my opinion, closing a kitchen should be a crime,” Leif said.
“Go tell that to the Sitian Council, then.”
“I did, but they wouldn’t grant my request.” Leif huffed. “Not much of a surprise, considering their chef overcooks everything and has no clue there are spices other than salt. I suppose the Councilors view closing the kitchen as a matter of self-defense for their stomachs.”
Reilly laughed. “You’re such a snob, Leif.”
“I prefer ‘connoisseur.’ And if you ever wish to relocate to the Citadel, I could arrange for you to be hired in the Magician’s Keep’s kitchens.”
The chef grunted in amusement over the old argument. His stocky build matched Leif’s, but the man was about twenty years older than Leif’s twenty-five. He pulled a pan from one of the ovens, filled a plate with slices of roast beef, heaped on potatoes and set it down on the counter. “Pull up a stool.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Leif crossed the room in two strides, found a fork and dug in.
Moaning in pleasure, Leif said, “Now that’s a perfect combination of flavors.”
“Did you come all this way for a meal?”
“No. I’m here at Councilor Moon’s request. Seems they caught a killer and need me to interrogate him.” Leif’s unique magic allowed him to sense a person’s moods and feelings. His abilities also included smelling lies, guilt and evil in others. It was hard to explain, but if a person was angry, Leif’s nose would burn with the scent of red pepper.
“Really? I haven’t heard anything about a capture. Do you know who it is?”
“No. Just that he murdered a number of victims.”
“That doesn’t sound familiar.”
“Not everything is widely publicized, Reilly. If you knew half the things I did…” Leif shuddered. “You’d never leave your kitchen.”
“Like that Daviian and Fire Warper stuff two years ago?”
“Exactly.” Not many people had been aware just how close the Warpers had come to overthrowing the Sitian Council and ruling Sitia. Good thing Leif’s sister, Yelena, had realized the full extent of her powers as the Soulfinder. Without her, they wouldn’t have won.
Leif changed the subject. “Have you created any new recipes lately?”
Reilly perked up. They discussed food and cooking and recipes—three of his favorite subjects. Leif sampled several of Reilly’s experiments, giving his opinion on the various flavors. When dawn arrived, the chef mixed up sweet cakes for breakfast.
Sarah entered soon after he finished the stack. “My goodness, have you two boys been up all night?”
“Uh…” Leif looked everywhere but at her.
“You’re bound to pay for it later. In the meantime, there’s four Fulgor guardsmen here for you.”
Odd. He wasn’t expected at the Council Hall until later. “All right.”
Sure enough, four large men waited for him in the common room. They fidgeted with the collars on their white and silver uniforms, and tugged at the sleeves. Leif’s magic flared as he sensed their discomfort. From the way the people in the room stared at them, Leif guessed they didn’t like the scrutiny. Another faint scent emanated from them, but Leif couldn’t put a finger on the emotion unless he moved closer and sniffed their clothes, which most people considered to be odd behavior.
“Is something wrong?” Leif asked instead.
A muscular man on his right, whose ill-fitting tunic bore a sergeant’s insignia, said, “There’s been a development, sir. We’ve been ordered to fetch you.”
“A development?”
The big bruiser glanced around. “Councilor Moon will update you, sir.”
Interesting. “All right, Sergeant. Give me a minute to grab my cloak.” Leif bounded up the stairs and retrieved his cloak, machete and a few extra darts, which he tucked into various hidden pockets. Four guardsmen seemed excessive to escort him to the Council Hall. Did the Councilor think he was in danger?
He rejoined them. The sergeant led them outside and through the still-quiet streets. Leif tried to question the man and his companions further, but they kept to the script, saying the Councilor would brief him when they arrived.
Halfway to the Hall, the men detoured down a side street.
“Shortcut,” the sergeant said.
Except Leif was quite certain it led away from the Hall. He mulled over Reilly’s comments. The best place to get information was always at the local inns and taverns. So why hadn’t Reilly known about this killer?
The clues clicked together in his mind.
Stupid, Leif. Real stupid. As his heart rate climbed, Leif considered his options. Four against one, but he’d have the element of surprise. For about a second. Could be enough. Or not. Better than letting them led you into an ambush.
When they neared an alley, he feigned a sneeze, palming a couple darts. The
n, without warning, Leif broke into a run. Sergeant Muscles shouted for him to stop. To the man’s surprise, Leif halted, spun around and threw the darts, aiming at the two closest men’s necks. One flew wide, but the other pierced skin.
One down. Leif yanked his machete from its sheath. The guardsmen hesitated. Most swordsmen didn’t have any experience fighting against a machete. Compared to a sword, the thicker, wider blade of Leif’s weapon lent it a more threatening presence. Their longer blades gave them the advantage, but Leif wasn’t going to be around long enough for them to test that theory. He hoped.
The man who’d been hit with the sleeping potion collapsed, providing a distraction. Pulling another dart, Leif sent it at Sergeant Muscles, who ducked. Damn. The sergeant drew his sword and advanced, lunging at Leif’s midsection. Metal clanged as Leif blocked the thrust. Concentrating on keeping the man’s blade from skewering him, Leif stayed on the defense, managing a few shallow cuts. But Leif wouldn’t last long. Muscles was skilled.
Time to set his stolen uniform on fire. Leif gathered power. His only other magical skill had its uses at times.
“Selene,” Sergeant Muscles shouted.
A null shield slammed down between them, blocking Leif’s magic. Surprised, Leif parried too late and two moves later, the sergeant disarmed him. The other two bruisers grabbed his arms and hustled him into the alley. Waiting at the entrance of a building near the middle, a woman gestured for them to hurry.
Leif knew that once they had him inside, all hope would be lost. With the added fuel of fear pumping through his body, he summoned his considerable strength and broke free. Punching Muscles in the face, he kicked the man on his right before slamming his heel down on the bruiser to his left.
More men streamed from the building. Outnumbered, Leif turned to run, but he was tackled from behind. They dragged him inside a dimly lit warehouse and dumped him onto the ground. The door closed with a thud that vibrated in his chest.
“Show him what happens when he tries to resist,” the woman ordered.
Leif had a second to brace before they attacked with fists and boots. The assault seemed to last forever. Pain radiated from every muscle. His world blurred into a painful vision of dark flying shapes.
Just before he passed out, the woman said, “That’s enough. He’s no good to us dead.”
PART 1 – YELENA
A familiar voice interrupted my dream. Lavender Lady, wake up!
Kiki, what’s wrong? I asked my horse through our magical mental connection.
Bad smell, she thought.
Keeping my eyes closed, I reached out with my senses, searching for trouble. A man crept along the side of my house. Since it was the middle of the night, I doubted he had come for a social visit. His surface emotions flipped from nervous energy to anticipation.
I dug a little deeper into his thoughts and encountered a strong barrier. He was a magician. Opening my eyes, I rolled over to wake Valek. He was already gone. The blanket settling to the mattress and his musky scent were the only evidence of his recent presence. How does he do that without magic?
Thanks, Kiki. We’ll take care of the intruder, I said as I slipped out of bed and into my red silk robe. A gift from Valek. It’d been crafted from the finest Sitian silk, and he’d had it designed just for me--sized to fit my body, hand embroidered, reversible and concealing various weapons hidden within its folds and seams.
Smells, Kiki said with alarm. Many bad smells.
How many? I asked. A sudden barrage of scents filled my mind. Sharp. Tangy. Rank. Earthy. Grainy. Five intruders, not one. I pushed my awareness out further, past the barn and pasture and into the woods surrounding my cottage. An owl. A raccoon. A mouse. No others. Which meant…
I snapped my focus back to the man and concentrated. He protected his companions with a null shield, which blocked my magic. An icy wave of fear rushed through me. This was no longer a simple problem. I raced down the stairs.
Metal picks scraped in the lock as I grabbed my switchblade and took a position next to the door. Between the faint moonlight and the glow from the embers in the hearth, there was enough light to discern the bigger shapes in my living room. A couch. An overstuffed chair. An end table. No Valek. Good. If I could see him, they would as well.
The door swung toward me. I waited as the five snuck in. They didn’t talk to each other as they fanned out. My heart did a little foxtrot in my chest. The last one was the magician. When he reached to shut the door, I moved.
Stepping in close behind him, I triggered my switchblade. No tell-tale snick sounded—Valek had modified it. I grabbed the man’s hair, yanked his head back hard and pressed the blade against his neck.
“Don’t move, or I’ll slit your throat,” I whispered in his ear.
The man froze, but called out, “Found her.”
The others spun, but didn’t draw weapons. In fact, they held their hands out and away from their bodies.
“Easy, Yelena,” my hostage said. “We’re not here to hurt you. We have some business to discuss with you.” He must be the leader of the group.
“In the middle of the night? And cloaked with a null shield? Try again.” The comment about the shield was for Valek’s benefit. He had to be nearby, waiting to see what developed.
“Both are precautions. We don’t want anyone to see us here.”
“And the null shield?” I asked.
“To protect my men. If I had wanted to surprise you, I would be behind the shield as well.”
Good point. “But your thoughts are blocked from me. All I’m getting is surface emotions.” Which were rather calm for a man with a knife against his throat. I could search his soul, but that seemed extreme right now. Perhaps later.
“I will reveal everything in time. Is the Ixian assassin here?”
“You’re not in a position to ask questions.” Magic swelled, and the handle of my switchblade turned red-hot. I yelped as it seared my skin, dropping the smoking weapon.
He twisted away and drew his sword, aiming at my chest. The other men pulled their weapons as well.
“I know you don’t realize it yet, but I am in charge. Answer my question.”
Instead, I stretched to claim his soul and encountered an unexpected obstruction. He had moved the shield and now stood behind it. Magic could not pierce a null shield from either direction. I was safe from his magic and he from mine, but physical objects, like the tip of his blade, remained unaffected. Breathing became harder, and beads of sweat rolled down my back.
I crossed my arms and discreetly fingered the darts hidden in the fabric of my robe. “Valek isn’t here.”
“She could be lying,” one of the men said. “How do we know for sure?”
“That’s easy,” I said. “Put two fingers on your neck, here.” I demonstrated with my left hand while my right palmed a dart. “Can you feel your pulse? That means Valek isn’t here, because if he was, you’d be dead. No pulse.”
One of the younger men blanched and glanced over his shoulder.
“You can split up and search the house if you don’t believe me,” I suggested.
“No,” the magician said. “We stay together.”
Too bad. Valek would have enjoyed picking them off one by one.
The magician gestured to the couch. “Sit down, Yelena.”
I considered for a moment. My dart was filled with Curare. One jab and the magician would be paralyzed, his magic neutralized. Yet I hesitated, curious about their reasons for being here. Valek’s influence, no doubt. So I complied and settled on the middle cushion.
The magician sat next to me. With his short dark hair and pale skin, he resembled a member of the Moon Clan. He ordered a man to add wood to the embers. Soon a bright fire lit the room, and I studied the man’s face. Brownish-green eyes with a downward slant stared back at me. He was in his forties, and his all-black clothes emphasized his powerful build.
“All right, I’ll bite. What do you want?”
He quirked a
smile. “I want you to help me rescue the Ice Moon from Ixia.”
I laughed. “You’re serious? That’s the Commander’s.”
“It’s ours. He stole it from Sitia.” The smile disappeared as fury radiated from him.
Obviously a touchy subject. “It’s hidden under the Soul Mountains. Only the Commander knows the location. And besides, why would I help you?”
He pointed at his men surrounding the couch, then to himself.
“You’ll need to provide more incentive,” I said.
“Than preserving your own life?”
“Trying to steal the Ice Moon is suicide. Die now, or die later. I’d rather save myself the trouble.”
“Good thing I anticipated your…reluctance.”
His smug smile sent a cold knife of dread into my heart.
“How about preserving your brother’s life for incentive?”
“You have Leif?” Doubt laced my voice, hiding the fear that threatened to make it quiver.
“Oh, yes. He’s in a secure location with my men,” the magician said. “But if you don’t help me recover the Ice Moon from Ixia, he will die.”
I considered the possibility of Leif’s capture. The magician lounged on my couch, watching me. Confidence radiated from him, yet he remained behind a null shield, protected from my magic.
“Do you have any proof?” I asked him.
“Of course. But first, a warning. If I don’t send a message to my men every day, they will kill your brother.” He held out a glass turtle.
The inner core of the sculpture glowed with the magic that had been trapped inside. One of Opal’s glass messengers. With it, the magician could communicate telepathically with another magician over vast distances.
Did he steal the turtle from Leif? “Is that your proof?”
“No. This is for my safety. If you harm me, then I won’t send a message, and you won’t have any time to find your brother before my men carry out their orders. My proof lies in my memories. Go on, Yelena. I’ve moved the null shield. Take a look.”
I projected my awareness toward him, seeking his thoughts. The image of Leif bound and gagged and furious floated in his mind. My own anger bubbled, but I suppressed it. For now.