Night Study
Page 90
Zethan rocked back on his heels. “Wow.”
“You know an awful lot about magic and magicians. Is that so you can counter them?” Zohav asked.
“Knowing your enemy is always important, but I learned most of this from my heart mate, who has magic.”
Zohav gaped at him. “You have a heart mate?”
“Who has magic, Zo. Magic! He’s not going to kill us or she’ll get mad at him. Right?”
“She would indeed.”
“What about those twenty-three others you assassinated? Does she know about them?” Zohav asked.
“Yes. In fact, she has neutralized a number of magicians, as well. Just because a person has magic doesn’t mean they’re good people. Think about what Jibben did using your magic. Can you imagine what he’d do with his own?”
Their queasy expressions said it all. Lecture over, Valek wrapped the remaining cheese, packed it away and mounted Onyx.
Before Zohav stepped up, she said in a low voice, “I’m glad you killed Jibben.”
“Me, too. Bastard got what he deserved.” Zethan slashed a finger along his neck.
Valek didn’t bother to correct them, and it was a quiet ride to—“Icefaren? You live in Icefaren?” he asked.
“I told you it was near the northern ice sheet,” Zethan said. “Not many towns up here.”
True. However, Valek never considered that they lived in his hometown. In his mind, only two people lived there—his parents, and no one else. According to the reports from his agents, his parents still resided in Icefaren.
Zethan spurred Smoke next to Valek. “I’ll take point. If that’s okay?” The teen had become comfortable riding a horse pretty quick.
“If you’re about to fall off the horse, grab his mane and not the saddle,” Valek instructed. “You won’t hurt him, and a saddle can move with your weight.”
“Mane, not saddle. Got it.” Zethan pulled ahead.
Onyx stayed right behind Smoke, and Valek kept his attention on the boy. Falling off a horse at speed could be deadly, but he was glad to see Zethan had a natural grace and good balance.
When the horses stopped at a gate, Zethan jumped off Smoke and cleared the fence in one long stride. Zohav made an ah sound, slid from the saddle and took off after her brother. They raced to the house.
It was only then that Valek realized where they were. He stared at the familiar house as ice replaced the blood in his veins. His stomach cramped as visions of his murdered brothers flashed in his memory. With an extreme effort, he reigned in his emotions. Of course his parents had moved. His father was sixty-three by now and must be retired, and his mother was sixty. The five-bedroom house and adjacent tannery was too big for the two of them.
A door banged. Valek grabbed the hilt of his sword and turned. Two men stepped from the tannery. The older man stopped and stared at Valek as if he’d seen a ghost. Valek’s heart pushed against his ribs and lungs as if it was a bubble about to burst. The pressure made it impossible for Valek to draw a breath.
The young man glanced between them. “Dad, what’s wrong? Who is he?”
24
JANCO
“What do you mean, you lost her?” Ari demanded of one of Fisk’s Helper’s Guild members.
Janco put a hand on his partner’s meaty arm. “Easy, big guy. You’re scaring her.” The poor thing looked to be about eight years old and fifty pounds. He’d seen sand spiders bigger than her.
“I don’t care. We shouldn’t have let a bunch of kids keep track of Yelena.”
“I doubt we could have done any better. That relay system was genius!”
Ari glowered. “Valek charged us to keep her safe. If she—”
“Keeping her safe is almost impossible, and Valek knows it, Ari. Now, let me handle this.” Janco crouched down to the girl’s eye level. “Can you show me where you last saw her?”
She nodded and turned. They followed her through the busy streets of the Citadel and into the quieter residence quarters. She headed southwest and zigzagged through a maze of alleys and streets. No wonder she’d lost the trail. This place was a tracker’s worst nightmare. Well, an average tracker. Janco was far from average.
The girl stopped at an intersection. “I turned this corner and...poof, they were gone.”
He glanced around. From this point, there were four narrow alleys that branched off in different directions. He checked each one for any signs of Yelena—a peppermint or dart or bit of milk oat she might have dropped. No luck. Yelena probably assumed they were close behind her. Janco considered the timing and thought they should be nearing the final destination. He checked each narrow path. At the end of the third one, he found a chewed toothpick, as if someone had waited there.
“How many relays did they have?” he asked the girl.
“I counted seven before I lost her.”
This one might be the last relay. From this point there were two alleys. Unable to find anything to distinguish one from the other, Janco picked one and closed his eyes. He inhaled, drawing the air slowly through his nose. Nothing but garbage and the typical city stink. He repeated the action in the other road. Same odors, but this time he also detected a faint whiff of lavender.
“This way,” he said, hurrying down the tight throughway. It ended in a round courtyard with five different exits.
An uneasy, crawly sensation tickled his skin. Magic. Faint magic. Janco concentrated, seeking that unsettling...substance. Once again he closed his eyes and moved toward the nebulousness that repelled him. The creepy crawlies increased when he faced south.
“You know an awful lot about magic and magicians. Is that so you can counter them?” Zohav asked.
“Knowing your enemy is always important, but I learned most of this from my heart mate, who has magic.”
Zohav gaped at him. “You have a heart mate?”
“Who has magic, Zo. Magic! He’s not going to kill us or she’ll get mad at him. Right?”
“She would indeed.”
“What about those twenty-three others you assassinated? Does she know about them?” Zohav asked.
“Yes. In fact, she has neutralized a number of magicians, as well. Just because a person has magic doesn’t mean they’re good people. Think about what Jibben did using your magic. Can you imagine what he’d do with his own?”
Their queasy expressions said it all. Lecture over, Valek wrapped the remaining cheese, packed it away and mounted Onyx.
Before Zohav stepped up, she said in a low voice, “I’m glad you killed Jibben.”
“Me, too. Bastard got what he deserved.” Zethan slashed a finger along his neck.
Valek didn’t bother to correct them, and it was a quiet ride to—“Icefaren? You live in Icefaren?” he asked.
“I told you it was near the northern ice sheet,” Zethan said. “Not many towns up here.”
True. However, Valek never considered that they lived in his hometown. In his mind, only two people lived there—his parents, and no one else. According to the reports from his agents, his parents still resided in Icefaren.
Zethan spurred Smoke next to Valek. “I’ll take point. If that’s okay?” The teen had become comfortable riding a horse pretty quick.
“If you’re about to fall off the horse, grab his mane and not the saddle,” Valek instructed. “You won’t hurt him, and a saddle can move with your weight.”
“Mane, not saddle. Got it.” Zethan pulled ahead.
Onyx stayed right behind Smoke, and Valek kept his attention on the boy. Falling off a horse at speed could be deadly, but he was glad to see Zethan had a natural grace and good balance.
When the horses stopped at a gate, Zethan jumped off Smoke and cleared the fence in one long stride. Zohav made an ah sound, slid from the saddle and took off after her brother. They raced to the house.
It was only then that Valek realized where they were. He stared at the familiar house as ice replaced the blood in his veins. His stomach cramped as visions of his murdered brothers flashed in his memory. With an extreme effort, he reigned in his emotions. Of course his parents had moved. His father was sixty-three by now and must be retired, and his mother was sixty. The five-bedroom house and adjacent tannery was too big for the two of them.
A door banged. Valek grabbed the hilt of his sword and turned. Two men stepped from the tannery. The older man stopped and stared at Valek as if he’d seen a ghost. Valek’s heart pushed against his ribs and lungs as if it was a bubble about to burst. The pressure made it impossible for Valek to draw a breath.
The young man glanced between them. “Dad, what’s wrong? Who is he?”
24
JANCO
“What do you mean, you lost her?” Ari demanded of one of Fisk’s Helper’s Guild members.
Janco put a hand on his partner’s meaty arm. “Easy, big guy. You’re scaring her.” The poor thing looked to be about eight years old and fifty pounds. He’d seen sand spiders bigger than her.
“I don’t care. We shouldn’t have let a bunch of kids keep track of Yelena.”
“I doubt we could have done any better. That relay system was genius!”
Ari glowered. “Valek charged us to keep her safe. If she—”
“Keeping her safe is almost impossible, and Valek knows it, Ari. Now, let me handle this.” Janco crouched down to the girl’s eye level. “Can you show me where you last saw her?”
She nodded and turned. They followed her through the busy streets of the Citadel and into the quieter residence quarters. She headed southwest and zigzagged through a maze of alleys and streets. No wonder she’d lost the trail. This place was a tracker’s worst nightmare. Well, an average tracker. Janco was far from average.
The girl stopped at an intersection. “I turned this corner and...poof, they were gone.”
He glanced around. From this point, there were four narrow alleys that branched off in different directions. He checked each one for any signs of Yelena—a peppermint or dart or bit of milk oat she might have dropped. No luck. Yelena probably assumed they were close behind her. Janco considered the timing and thought they should be nearing the final destination. He checked each narrow path. At the end of the third one, he found a chewed toothpick, as if someone had waited there.
“How many relays did they have?” he asked the girl.
“I counted seven before I lost her.”
This one might be the last relay. From this point there were two alleys. Unable to find anything to distinguish one from the other, Janco picked one and closed his eyes. He inhaled, drawing the air slowly through his nose. Nothing but garbage and the typical city stink. He repeated the action in the other road. Same odors, but this time he also detected a faint whiff of lavender.
“This way,” he said, hurrying down the tight throughway. It ended in a round courtyard with five different exits.
An uneasy, crawly sensation tickled his skin. Magic. Faint magic. Janco concentrated, seeking that unsettling...substance. Once again he closed his eyes and moved toward the nebulousness that repelled him. The creepy crawlies increased when he faced south.
