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  However, in order for Yelena to agree to his plan, he’d have to choose his words with the utmost care. “No need for all of us to go traipsing around. Janco and I will home in on any magical illusions that might be hiding wagon tracks or the entrance and we’ll return once we find it so we can go over options.”

  “I’m pretty sure there’ll only be two,” Janco said. “Enter or cover the entrance with a bunch of rocks. Frankly, I’d vote for just blocking the damn thing. No reason to go inside.”

  “Unless that’s where Owen is hiding,” Yelena said.

  “Even more reason to collapse it.”

  “Why would he hide inside when he knows we’re searching for it?” Onora asked.

  Valek met Yelena’s gaze. Was she remembering the time they had hidden inside a dungeon? She smiled. That would be a yes.

  “Sometimes the best places to hide are the most obvious,” she said. “Owen’s smart. He knows Valek has orders to put the tunnel out of commission and blocking the entrance is the easiest way. Why look inside? And don’t forget Tyen can move those boulders with his magic.”

  “Lovely.” Janco scratched the scar where the bottom half of his right ear used to be. “And what happens if they are hiding there? Let’s face it. Between Owen’s ability to trap Valek, Rika confusing us with her illusions and Tyen tossing boulders at us, we’re fu...er...outmatched.”

  Valek agreed. Head-to-head, outmatched didn’t even begin to describe it. However... “The trick is to avoid detection.”

  “And how exactly do we do that?” Janco asked.

  “Carefully. Come on, it’s getting late. I want to cover as much ground as possible before the sun sets.” Valek consulted the map.

  “How can my team aid you, sir?” Ivon asked.

  “Talk to the locals and the miners. See if anyone noticed or heard anything that might point us in the right direction.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ivon called to his men.

  “What about us?” Onora asked.

  “Find a place in the camp where we can set up and make sure the horses have a comfortable spot.”

  “Busywork,” Yelena said. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “You do?”

  “Feigning innocence doesn’t work on me.” She waved a hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to insist on accompanying you. You’re right. I’d be useless for this mission.”

  “That’s not the reason.” He tried to explain, but she strode away.

  Onora remained. “I’ll keep a close watch on her.”

  “Good.”

  She hurried after Yelena.

  Janco watched her. “You’re trusting her?”

  For now. “Why do you ask?”

  “That hit on Ben Moon and the others.”

  Valek waited.

  “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  Janco scrunched up his face as if in pain. “The Commander ordered you to shut Owen’s entire operation down. It makes sense he ordered his shiny new assassin to do the same thing. It’d be dead easy for Onora to make it appear as if The Mosquito was the culprit. And you already know all this, don’t you?”

  Valek kept his expression neutral, but he was impressed. “I thought Ari was supposed to be the smart one.”

  “Yeah, well, he isn’t here, so I gotta do all the thinking. And I’m not happy about, either. It makes my head hurt.”

  * * *

  Valek and Janco spent the rest of the day hunting for the familiar sticky feel of magic in the foothills. They returned late and left early the next morning to resume the search. Another two full days passed before Janco stopped Beach Bunny.

  He pressed his hand to his right ear. “Son of a snow cat!”

  “You’re not thinking again, are you?” Valek drew next to Janco, halting Onyx.

  “Not funny. It’s gotta be a superstrong illusion.”

  Valek dismounted. “Which direction?”

  Janco pointed to the right. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The bare branches of the trees dipped and swayed in a cold northern breeze that smelled of snow, despite it being a couple weeks into the warming season. High, thin clouds filtered the sunlight.

  Valek pulled his sword. Janco slid off Beach Bunny and yanked his weapon from its sheath. The rattle and tumble of dried leaves filled the air. This patch of forest grew in a dip in the rolling terrain near the base of the Soul Mountains. To the east, the jagged snowcapped peaks stretched high, like a row of gigantic corn plants reaching for the sun.

  The mountain range earned its name from old legends. Folklore claimed the peaks snagged souls as they ascended toward the sky. These trapped souls haunted the frozen heights and sucked the life from anyone who dared climb past the tree line. Valek believed it to be just a story to explain why no one who tried to reach the summit ever returned. The lack of breathable air was the more likely explanation. Although some also asserted that mysterious people who supposedly lived on the other side of the mountains patrolled the upper regions to prevent anyone from crossing into their homeland, keeping their existence a secret.

  Pure nonsense. Valek returned his attention to the task at hand. He hadn’t expected Owen’s tunnel to be this high in the foothills, but the isolated location was ideal.

  Janco aimed for an ordinary group of trees and hissed in pain as he disappeared from sight. Increasing his pace, Valek hurried after him and encountered magic. The invisible force pressed against his skin. Pushing through felt like swimming in mud. He found Janco rubbing his temple on the other side. Valek scanned the area for possible threats. Nothing so far.

  A mass of oversize boulders was piled next to a hill. At first glance, it resembled a natural rock slide from the mountains, but upon closer inspection the heap was too neatly stacked. It must be blocking the tunnel.

  “Looks like someone beat us to it,” Valek said.

  “No.” Janco’s voice strained with effort. “Move closer.”

  He did. The air thickened. Another illusion. “Clever.” It would stop the smugglers from using it, but it kept the tunnel open in case Owen needed it again in the future.

  “Could be a trap.”

  “Indeed.” Valek tightened his grip on his sword and drew a knife with his free hand. “I’m just going to confirm there’s a tunnel behind it.”

  Janco straightened. “Then I’ll come confirming with you, just in case.”

  The pressure on his body increased with each step. Janco paled when they reached the authentic-looking rocks. Even knowing it wasn’t real, Valek braced for impact as he strode right into the pile. He muscled through the magic.

  No one ambushed them. The tunnel’s entrance was empty. Valek crept inside a few feet and listened for any noises that would indicate people were farther inside. No sounds bubbled up from the solid darkness.

  Wagon wheel ruts warped the ground just past the opening. Janco drew in a deep breath. Relief smoothed his features and he crouched down to inspect the marks, running his fingers along the smooth grooves.

  “How old?” Valek asked.

  “Eight to ten days.”

  “Probably the last smugglers before Rika set the illusion.”

  “Now what?”

  “Return to camp and discuss the next step.”

  “How about we inform the Sitian authorities and let them deal with it? After all, they have all those magicians,” Janco suggested.

  “That’s one option.”

  They mounted their horses and headed back to camp. It was late afternoon by the time they arrived. Valek slowed Onyx. A number of people milled about the camp. More than he’d expected. Concern for Yelena pulsed in his chest until he recognized Ivon.

  “Report,” he ordered his lieutenant.

  “We’ve been talking to the other mining camps, sir. Two of them had a significant amount of food stolen from their stores.”

  “And why is this relevant?”

  Ivon snapped his fingers and signaled one of his men, who
dashed away. “A witness caught sight of the culprits.”

  An uneasy sensation brushed his stomach. He met Janco’s gaze.

  “Can’t be good,” Janco said.

  Ivon’s sergeant approached with a grubby teen boy wearing a torn miner’s jumpsuit. The all-black material had a row of green diamond shapes down each sleeve, indicating the miner worked for MD-5.

  “Tell Adviser Valek what you told me, Lewin,” Ivon ordered the teen.

  Under the coating of dust, the young man’s face drained of color. Lewin stared at Valek as if he peered into the mouth of a dragon just about to eat him. “Um...uh...it was the...the middle of the night and I was on the...the way to the latrine,” Lewin stuttered. “I heard voices ar...arguing near the supply shed, so I crept up tr...trying not to make noise, but I couldn’t see nobody.” He rubbed his chin with his sleeve. “Yet the...the voices kept at it as if there were a couple of invisible ghosts.” Lewin glanced around as if expecting them to tell him he was crazy.

  No one said a word. Valek’s unease turned sharp, jabbing his guts. “Go on,” he urged Lewin.

  “There’s been lots of ac...activity around here and weird...stuff. So I followed the voices to the...the edge of the camp. And...” He shuddered. “Three people step...stepped from the air. Bulging sacks floated behind them. They con...continued into the woods, heading west. I found out later the stores had been raided.”

  Valek and Janco exchanged another glance.

  “I hate it when I’m right,” Janco said.

  “Can you describe them?” Valek asked Lewin.

  “Yes, sir. Two men and one lady.”

  Valek tightened his grip on Onyx’s reins. “Did you see their faces?”

  “Yes, sir.” Lewin described the thieves.

  Janco cursed under his breath.

  “Anything else?” Valek asked, almost hoping the answer was no.

  Lewin scuffed his boot in the dirt. “Yeah. Their uniforms. They wo...wore the Commander’s colors.”

  The information rendered Janco speechless. However, Valek knew Janco would say holy snow cats. If Valek considered the bright side, at least they knew where Owen, Rika and Tyen were. Too bad they were in Ixia and appeared to be heading toward the Commander.

  6

  LEIF

  “Nope, haven’t seen anything like that before. Good day.” The glassmaker hustled Leif from his shop, closing the door right behind him.

  At least he didn’t slam it, Leif thought. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Between the heat pumping from the glass factory’s brick walls and the unseasonably hot afternoon sun, his tunic was soaked. Leif returned the small square of glass with the miniature holes to his pack. He’d cut a couple of pieces from the glass house’s ceiling for him and Devlen to take along and show to the glassmakers.

  He scanned the street. A few people walked along the row of factories and businesses in Whitestone’s small downtown. Over the past nine days they’d been checking with every glass factory and workshop in ever-widening arcs from Owen’s farmhouse. They hadn’t been back there in the past four days, and Leif planned to return after this stop. There hadn’t been any messages from Yelena, and that worried him.

  Whitestone was located two days southeast and about a half day from the border with the Cloud Mist’s lands.

  Devlen rounded the corner. Hard to miss the tall Sandseed among the paler Moons.

  “Any luck?” Leif asked when his brother-in-law drew closer.

  “No. You?”

  “Think I’ve found something.”

  “Oh?”

  “Guy in there showed me the door faster than I could eat a slice of apple pie.”

  “That is an impressive amount of speed,” Devlen agreed.

  “And he smelled like black licorice.”

  “Which you do not like.”

  “Not at all.” He’d always hated it. The candy tasted of fear and deceit.

  “Shall we go talk to him again?” Devlen asked.

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  They entered the thick air. Five kilns roared, masking the sounds of the glassworkers who sat at benches and shaped the molten slugs of glass gathered onto the end of their pontil irons. Assistants scurried, fetching tools, cracking off pieces and filling the annealing ovens to cool the piping-hot glass slowly. The open windows did nothing to dispel the force of the heat.

  The older man Leif had spoken with earlier directed the traffic, but once he spotted them he hustled over with a scowl. The spicy scent of red pepper burned the inside of Leif’s nostrils. Anger had replaced the man’s fear.

  “Get out,” he shooed. “I’ve no time for your nonsense. I’ve orders to fill.”

  “This will not take long.” Devlen projected his voice through the noise. “Your office.” When the man hesitated, he leaned closer and said, “Now.”

  The man bolted for an open door to the left. Nice. And it’d been the reason Leif waited for Devlen before confronting the lying glassmaker. They followed close behind. Leif shut the door on the din.

  The neat and utilitarian office lacked personality. No pictures hung on the walls. No decorative glass lined the shelves.

  Devlen laid his square sample on the desk.

  The glassmaker jabbed a finger at it. “I’ve told you—”

  “Look again,” Leif said. “Closer this time.”

  The man huffed with annoyance and picked it up, pretending to inspect the piece. A fog of black licorice almost gagged Leif. The man was terrified.

  “The person who ordered those panels is no longer a threat,” Leif said in his most soothing tone, letting his magic mix with the words. “We’ve halted his operations and are in the process of determining how extensive it is.”

  “We who?” he asked.

  “Me, Leif Zaltana and my colleague, Devlen Sandseed.”

  The man’s fear eased only a fraction. Leif would have been insulted, but unfortunately he’d dealt with Owen and understood just how much of a scary bastard the magician could be. And with the size of this operation, Owen couldn’t erase all the staff’s memories—too many people.

  “Also the Sitian Council and the Master Magicians,” Leif added.

  “Have you arrested him?” the man asked.

  “Not yet. He’s on the run, but every city and town has been alerted and he’ll be caught soon.” Leif hoped.

  “Then he remains a threat.”

  “I’ll order the local security forces keep a close watch on you—”

  “Not me. My family.”

  Typical. At least Owen stayed consistent. “Your family, then.”

  “And in exchange?”

  “A list of locations where you delivered those special glass panels.”

  The silence stretched and Leif sensed a variety of emotions. The bitter tang of fear dominated.

  Finally, the man pulled open a drawer and rummaged through the files. He handed Leif a stack of papers. Leif scanned the pages and counted enough panels to construct at least ten glass houses. Delivery dates and locations had been written on the orders. The closest one was about a day’s ride west. The others were scattered north and east, up toward the Sunworth River.

  “Can I keep these?” Leif asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you. I’ll inform Captain Ozma of the situation right away. We talked to her this morning and none of her forces have seen anyone matching Owen’s description in this area.”

  The man’s relief smelled of sweet grass. “Good.”

  They left and stopped by the security offices. Captain Ozma sent a detail to the glass factory to collect more information.

  Leif studied the sky. “We won’t be able to reach the closest hothouse today, but, if we leave now, we can make it to the town of Marble Arch in time for supper.”

  “Let me guess, there is an inn there that serves some type of delectable dish that you cannot find anywhere else.” Devlen’s tone rasped with smugness.

 
“Wrong, Mr. Know-It-All! It’s a tavern, not an inn.”

  “A thousand apologies.”

  “Can you say that again without the sarcasm?”

  “No.”

  They had stabled their horses in the guards’ barn. Devlen had picked a sturdy cream-colored horse with a dark brown mane and tail. She had lovely russet eyes and she watched Devlen’s every move. Leif had teased him that it was love at first sight. Devlen named her Sunfire, which was a heck of a lot better than Beach Bunny.

  Mounting the horses, they headed east and, as predicted, they sat at a table in the corner of the Daily Grind tavern just in time for supper.

  “Lots of stone carvers come here.” Leif explained the name to Devlen. “Marble and granite fill this whole area of the Moon Clan’s lands. These people earn their living either quarrying it from the ground or chiseling, shaping and grinding it for use.”

  A server approached and Leif ordered without consulting Devlen. “Two ales and two extra-large portions of pit beef, please.”

  “Pit beef? Sounds...unappetizing,” Devlen said.

  “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

  Devlen groaned. “You have been spending too much time with Janco.”

  While they waited for the food, Leif spread out the pages they’d received from the glassmaker and they marked the locations of all the glass houses on a map.

  “My father will be here in roughly five days.” Leif traced a route with his finger. “We have enough time to check three of them on the way back to the farmstead.”

  * * *

  Late-morning sunlight glinted off the glass panes of the hothouse. Leif stopped Rusalka before drawing too close. No need to tip anyone off that they were nearby. The long, thin structure sat in the middle of an open clearing along with a small wooden building. Forest surrounded the complex. This was the first of the three they planned to check on their return to Owen’s ex-headquarters.

  From this angle, it seemed as if the place was deserted. No greenery stained the inside of the glass house and, after an hour of observation, no one appeared.