Night Study

by Maria V. Snyder

  “I know. We’re strangers.” He glanced at the graves. “We haven’t ruined the laundry together or planned a prank or snuck out late at night or hidden from Father when he was furious. Those experiences are what forges a relationship.”

  “Yeah, and I’m too old to hide from Father.”

  Valek quirked an eyebrow at him. “Really? You don’t suddenly find somewhere else to be when he wants to clean out the acid vat?”

  Zebulon laughed. “True.” He played with the shoelaces on his scuffed and worn boots. “You’re not what I expected. Mother had us so worried when Zee’s and Zo’s magic started doing crazy things. We’d thought you’d arrive with an army and kill us all.”

  “Reputations are interesting creatures. I’ve nurtured mine so that most people fear me. They’re easier to manipulate that way. However, I don’t kill because I enjoy it or get a thrill from it. There was a logical reason for each one, and it was usually after all other options were tried or considered. I’ve no regrets over anyone I’ve assassinated. Some criminals just can’t be redeemed—locking them in jail just gives them time to plan their next crime and hurt more people. But some can. In fact, a friend of mine was addicted to blood magic and did a number of horrible things in order to feed his addiction, but he pulled it together, turned his life around and is making amends.”

  “You have friends?”

  He gave him a wry smile. “A few brave souls. Being with me tends to put them in danger.”

  “I bet.”

  Voices sounded to the left, along with the light bang of a wooden door. Valek sensed the twins and his parents approaching well before he should. Odd. Father fetched more wood and built the small blaze into a larger one while the other three settled around the fire without saying a word. Heat pulsed. Orange light illuminated the ring of faces, the family resemblance clear.

  Valek braced for another emotional conversation, but his mother asked about the Citadel, the Magician’s Keep, what the twins should pack and how much money they’d need.

  He filled her in on what the twins would be doing. “Don’t worry about money. The Keep provides a stipend to the students.”

  Zohav hugged her knees to her chest during the explanation. She’d rather stay home with her family, but Zethan relished the idea of learning more about his power. If he’d known what he could do, those pirates wouldn’t have stood a chance. This insight into both of them hit Valek with such certainty, it was as if he’d read their actual thoughts. His head ached with the ceaseless chatter and emotions.

  Mother fiddled with the sliver clasp on her cloak. “Will you tell the Sitians they are your siblings?”

  “No. Sitians fear and hate me as much as the Ixians do. They will be safer if everyone believes they are refugees from Ixia.”

  Mother frowned. “They had to get their magic from my father. No one else in our family has it.”

  “Yelena speculated that my immunity to magic might be a form of power,” Valek said.

  “Who is this Yelena?” she asked.

  “My heart mate.” Best to keep her status under wraps for now.

  Zethan asked, “Does she think your immunity is a One-Trick power? Like Nell’s?”

  “It’s possible.”

  His mother studied him. Her thoughts clear. Valek couldn’t be that terrible if another person loved him. Unless she was a monster, too. “Tell us about her.”

  The pain in Valek’s temples increased. Was it due to this strange...sensation...ability? With effort, he concentrated on describing Yelena’s wonderful kindness and intelligence, and he ignored the extra thoughts, sounds and smells that threatened to overwhelm him.

  “Why isn’t she with you?” Mother asked.

  “She’s in Sitia. I need to catch up with her, which is why we have to leave in the morning.”

  “Does her family know she’s your heart mate?”

  Again Valek understood why his mother asked that question. Her desire to find others who didn’t hate him might help her see him in a better light.

  “Yes. In fact, her brother and father are currently helping me with a problem.”

  “What problem?” Father asked.

  “Identifying a plant. It’s important, but we don’t know why. It could either be a poison or be used as a potential weapon.” Like Curare.

  “Would that be something we’d do as magicians? Help you with problems?” Zethan asked.

  Both Zohav and Mother scowled at Zethan’s enthusiasm, thinking the boy was going to get himself killed if he helped Valek.

  Valek rubbed his forehead. What the hell was going on? Why were their thoughts so clear to him? Was it because they were family? Unable to answer any of those questions, he concentrated on Zethan’s question instead. “I expect the Stormdancers will be very interested in you, and you’ll spend your time with them. Those who help me have a great deal of training and skill. They frequently give up months of their lives to work undercover, and it’s a dangerous life.”

  “Then why do it?” Zohav asked.

  His gaze was drawn to his brothers’ headstones. “Because evil is out there. We’ve witnessed its devastation. We know it must be stopped.”

  “And you’re the only ones who can stop it?” Father asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s rather egotistical,” Zohav said.

  “It could be taken that way,” Valek agreed. “It’s still true, though.”

  “What happens when you’re too old to fight?”

  Valek noted the use of when. Nice to know his father didn’t think of him as too old. “By then I hope the next generation will be trained and ready.”

  “And if they aren’t?”

  “Evil wins.”

  * * *

  Considering the reception of his arrival, Valek’s family stayed by the fire longer than he expected. After they left, he lay on his bedroll and stared at the stars. Exhausted, his head throbbed and he couldn’t sleep. It was as if his skin had been rubbed off, exposing all his nerves.

  So much had happened.

  So many emotions.

  Thoughts swirled in his mind, bits of conversation repeated, and he replayed his own reaction at Vincent’s grave when he’d realized why he had avoided any mention of his family. What had happened to him? His senses had sharpened into a super awareness, and he flinched at every tiny noise.

  Giving up on sleep, Valek stirred the fire to life. Perhaps a cup of one of Leif’s teas would help soothe him.

  It didn’t.

  By the time dawn arrived, Valek had gotten only a few hours of rest. He packed his bedroll and supplies. Concentrating on the task at hand and not the conversation going on in the kitchen, Valek saddled the horses.

  The twins both carried a pack. His parents and Zebulon followed them from the house. While Valek secured their bags on the horses, the others said goodbye.

  “We want to visit them at the beginning of the hot season,” Mother said to Valek. “Can you arrange it?”

  “Yes.” If there wasn’t a war between Ixia and Sitia by then.

  “Good. We’ll see how it is before deciding on moving.”

  “Smart,” Valek agreed.

  She snorted. “You make sure they’re safe.” It wasn’t a request.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If anything happens to them, I’m holding you responsible.”

  Mortified, Zethan said, “Mother, he’s not going to babysit us. We can take care of ourselves.”

  “As long as there’s no pirates in Sitia,” Zebulon said.

  “Shut up, Zeb.” Zethan punched him on the arm.

  She ignored her sons. “And you bring this Yelena to meet us.”

  Another order, but one that meant so much more. “Yes, sir.”

  Mother gave him a curt nod, then she hugged each of the twins. Zethan mounted Smoke, and Zohav sat behind Valek. He clicked his tongue and Onyx trotted through the gate. Unlike the last time he’d left twenty-eight years ago, this time he planned to return.


  * * *

  Valek and the twins approached the rendezvous location four days into the warm season and eleven days after they’d left Icefaren. Eleven days of dealing with his super-active senses, the twins’ questions, their thoughts and emotions, and worrying about Yelena. Was she there or not?

  When they were half a mile away, Kiki’s whinny shot right through him. Relief and joy to see Yelena infused him. Onyx broke into a run with Smoke right behind him.

  Arriving with a cloud of dust, Valek stopped Onyx. Kiki butted her head against the black horse. Valek peered over her, searching for Yelena. Signs of a campfire and other evidence of camp littered the clearing. But no Yelena, no other horses, no Ari or Janco.

  He turned stone-cold. “Stay on the horses and keep quiet,” Valek ordered the twins. Dismounting, he freed his sword with his right hand while grabbing a dagger with his left.

  One thing kept him from panicking. Kiki. She wasn’t agitated or upset. A rustling sounded from the woods. He spun, then relaxed as his new senses spotted Fisk carrying a water skin. Fisk’s presence meant bad news, but not immediate danger. By the time Fisk reached him, Valek had sheathed his weapons.

  Before the young man could say a word, Valek demanded, “Where’s Yelena?”

  “She’s been captured by Bruns Jewelrose.”

  A wave of icy fear washed through him, followed by a molten fury that promised Bruns would regret the decision to apprehend her. At least she wasn’t dead. Valek focused on that, or else he’d lose the tight control he had on his emotions. “Ari and Janco?”

  “Trying to rescue her and Leif. He was captured first and...” Fisk spread his arms.

  “Do you know where they are?”

  “Yes.”

  One bit of good news. He hooked a thumb in the twins’ direction. “I need to take them to the Magician’s Keep, then we can talk to the Master Magicians and devise—”

  “You can’t go the the Keep.”

  “Why not?”

  “There’s no one there.”

  27

  JANCO

  Janco touched his smooth chin for the billionth time. Gah. He’d had his goatee for years. He loved it, but shaving it had been part of his disguise. Janco’s exposed skin tingled as if the entire garrison saw right through him. Plus his head itched from the red dye, and the fake ear made him sweat. One of these days, he’d impersonate a wealthy businessman for a change. He’d wear tailored silk clothing, expensive jewelry, be surrounded by a cloud of sycophants and... Who was he kidding? Grunts blended in; businessmen with minions did not.

  Suppressing a sigh, he picked up a practice sword and sparred with a soldier wannabe. Keeping half his attention on the out-of-shape farmer, Janco watched the armory. Yelena and her thugs had disappeared inside not long ago.

  One good thing about the training yard—no magic. Most of the outdoor areas were clean, but magic infected the barracks and canteen. He spent his nights sneaking into the various buildings or reporting information to Ari. The big guy remained on the outside to liaise with Fisk and his people.

  Bruns strode toward the armory. By his stiff gait and the short swings of his arms, Janco figured he was either agitated or angry. Bruns entered the building and after a few minutes, Bruns and Yelena left, walking arm in arm. They both smiled, but Janco didn’t like it. Not at all. Something wasn’t right.

  He let the wannabe disarm him. “Sweet move, puppy dog. You’re just too good for me. I’d better go find someone more my speed.” His ego shuddered with the blow, but showing off his superior skills would be the opposite of blending in.

  Janco slipped away from the training yard and followed Yelena and Bruns to the administration building. The two thugs remained outside. A good or bad thing? He wasn’t sure. Finding an inconspicuous spot to wait, Janco kept an eye on the door.

  To pass the time, he sized up the thugs and decided he could take them both by himself, if the ruckus didn’t cause every wannabe to come running. The problem with this place was not being able to tell the grunts from the magicians. They all wore the same uniform, which was a sound military tactic. No sense letting your enemy know who to target. But his magic mojo failed to work as well here. The power flooded the buildings and he couldn’t home in on the magicians.

  They needed Valek. His ability to feel magic was more sensitive. Janco hoped Fisk would return soon. Kiki had only allowed Fisk to ride her. She had to be the one to go, since Kiki knew the rendezvous location and was smart enough to avoid the border guards.

  Bruns poked his head from the door and barked at the thugs. They nodded and took off. Not good. Janco debated between following the thugs or remaining in his position. Footsteps sounded behind him. He spun, grasping the hilt of his knife and stopped.

  “You should give a guy a little more warning,” he said to Leif.

  “I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

  “Aren’t we all.”

  “Yeah, well, those two bruisers that just bolted are looking for me.”

  Concerned, Janco scanned the area for them. So far, so good. “How do you know?”

  “We weren’t as clever as we thought. Bruns caught on that we weren’t eating the Theobroma-laced food. He just tried to use goo-goo juice on Yelena to get her to divulge everything she knows, but when I gave Bruns her darts and told him which ones had Curare, sleeping potion and goo-goo juice, I mixed them up.”

  “So Yelena is...?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “And you know this for sure?”

  “Yes. Hale used his magic to listen in on Bruns and Yelena.”

  “Then you need to escape. Ari’s—”

  “I’m not going anywhere without Yelena.”

  “But—”

  “Listen. She’ll eventually wake up and then he’ll use the goo-goo juice on her.

  “She’ll blow your cover and tell Bruns about Dax and Hale’s involvement. Tonight, the three of you need to leave. This is bigger than we can handle right now. I’ll rescue Yelena and join you outside.”

  “Did you see the size of those thugs? No way you’re getting to her without help,” Janco said. “Where is he holding her?”

  “In the cells under the administration building.”

  “Damn. There’s only one entrance. We’ll have to use the windows. It’s going to be difficult.”

  “How about if I let them catch me during a rescue attempt? Bruns might think no one else will try to reach her. Is there a way I can hide lock picks or a weapon where they won’t find them?”

  “Brunsie is a smart cookie.” Without thinking, Janco scratched his fake ear and almost peeled it off. Aha! “Actually, there is a way that might work, if he doesn’t kill you once you’re caught.”

  “He won’t. Yelena and I are showpieces. Bruns wants us loyal to his cause. If we’re unsuccessful, he’ll probably force-feed us Theobroma and blast us until we’re mindless Bruns groupies.”

  “Isn’t there an antidote? Can you use Curare to reverse the effects?”

  “No. It doesn’t work that way.” Leif frowned.

  “What about something else? Even poisons have antidotes.”

  Leif stared at him in shock.

  “What did I say?”

  “Those plants...in Owen’s glass hothouses. They... We...”

  “What? Spit it out, man.”

  “We thought the one hybrid plant was Vossen, but it might be an antidote to Theobroma!”

  “Too bad you didn’t figure this out sooner.”

  “Once we’re free, it’ll be a place to start.”

  “Start what?” Janco asked.

  “The revolt.”

  * * *

  Janco returned to the barracks and grabbed a few things from the bag stashed under his bunk. Then he met up with Leif in an abandoned storeroom. He mixed the putty, matching Leif’s skin tone, and set to work. When he finished, Leif had a couple lock picks and a number of darts hidden under patches of fake skin.

  “Don’t scratch them.
And don’t touch the areas when you’re being searched,” Janco instructed.

  “Got it.”

  They reviewed the plan to rescue Yelena.

  “Dax will leave the compound during supper and update Ari,” Leif said. “Hale will meet you on the south side of the administration building unless there are guards. In that case, he’ll rendezvous with you outside the magicians’ barracks.”

  “Good. You might as well stay here until midnight. Bruns has increased the muscle searching the garrison for you.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to finish my reconnaissance. There are a few places I haven’t checked, and if you think there’ll be a revolt, then we’re gonna need as much intel as possible.”

  “Be very careful.”

  Janco huffed. “I’m Mr. Careful.”

  “Uh-huh. How many times have you been—”

  “I don’t count. What’s past is past.” With a wave, Janco left.

  Blending in with various groups of soldiers, Janco explored the infirmary and the stables. Without Leif to secure untainted food, Janco ate a few pieces of ancient jerky from his travel pack. He chewed on it forever.

  The canteen buzzed with conversation and magic. Janco’s scar tweaked with pain. Despite the power, Janco thought it was a good time to discover where the unmarked door in the back left corner led. It didn’t have a keyhole or other evidence of a lock. The knob turned with ease as Janco, acting as if he used the door all the time, strode through and closed it behind him.

  He stood on a small landing. Stairs led down into a tight stairwell, ending in grayness. There must be windows below, letting in the last of the daylight. Janco descended, zigzagging from landing to landing until he reached bottom. As he expected, small windows set near the ceiling ringed the basement.

  Glancing around, he spotted a collection of chairs, stacks of wooden crates, barrels, a pile of tablecloths and a mound of potatoes—an obvious storage area for the canteen. Footsteps, the scrape of chairs and voices filtered down to him from above. There was another door at the far end of the room. Janco wove through the mess and considered it a win when he only banged his shin once on a broken leg jutting from a table.