Shadow Study
Page 109
When they entered a small stairwell, Valek sensed power emanating from the floor. He found a hatch. They descended and found Yelena’s switchblade lying near the base of the ladder. Valek’s heart lurched. She’d never leave it behind, which meant she’d been captured. Determined to return it to her, he tucked it into his belt.
He rushed to finish checking the basement. It was empty of goods and magic. And Yelena. They had taken her with them. Valek needed to find them.
Fast.
31
JANCO
Where was Onora? She should have been back by now. Janco circled the smuggler’s farm another time. The place was big and surrounded by a chain-link fence, but he doubted any actual farming went on in there. Lots of barns, people and activity, but no cows, crops or farm equipment. Each hour that passed brought more wagons and sketchy-looking goons. Where was Onora?
Plus Janco thought he’d spotted that Ben Moon guy Yelena had talked about. The man resembled her description, and she’d suspected he might be involved. He thought about the fugitive. That rescue op from Wirral Prison would have cost a bundle. And what better way to raise money than smuggling? Selling Curare. No doubt you could collect lots and lots of gold for Curare.
He watched the compound from a low branch in a tree and kept track of people going into and between buildings, counting heads and guessing their jobs. The sun set and lanterns were lit—a good indication of which structures were occupied. Tired of waiting for Onora, Janco decided to sneak into the compound later and have a look around.
When the activity diminished, Janco ghosted along the fence until he found a dark area out of sight from the main buildings. He climbed over the ten-foot-high fence. A weird tingle lingered on his palms. Janco rubbed them on his pants. Must be from the cold.
The first barn he explored smelled authentic. Yuck. Moldy straw bales mixed with crates of goods. The second place was even more uninteresting. However, hidden between two buildings was a strange-looking structure. The one-story-high oversize shed had been constructed with glass. Odd. Janco moved closer. Water beaded the glass on the inside. Dark leafy plants filled the interior. He circled it and found the entrance. Locked. But not for long.
Hot steamy air along with the rich earthy smells of the jungle puffed in his face when he opened the door. Janco entered. Various plants and bushes filled the room along with pools of water and two red-hot woodstoves. A thick vine wove through the foliage. The Curare vine.
This was bad. Really bad. If they were growing their own vines here, they could be growing them anywhere. He’d assumed they brought the vines up from the Illiais Jungle. That would be easier to stop than finding these little glass hothouses.
Time to leave. Janco exited the...jungle. He turned to relock the door and a sharp point pricked him in the back.
Three sharp points, actually.
“Hands up,” a voice said.
Damn. Not much he could do. He spread his arms, but kept his hands low. They took his sword, knife and lock picks. Well, one set, anyway. Then manacled his hands behind his back. Pushing on his shoulder, they led him to another building. Not the chattiest bunch, either, which meant he’d been ambushed by a trio of grunts. A blow to his ego, for sure.
A number of people were inside the new building. The guy he guessed was Ben was there, but also another man he recognized, who stood inside a wagon. This had gone beyond bad. Janco was screwed.
“Well, well, well. Isn’t this just a happy reunion? Yelena, guess who came to visit? Your friend...Janco, is it?”
“Pretty good memory for a dead guy,” Janco said. He glanced around, but didn’t see Yelena. She must be on the floor of the wagon and under a null shield, otherwise the jerk wouldn’t be so cocky.
Owen Moon beamed at him. “I always remember the faces and names of my enemies. I don’t want to forget to kill anyone.”
32
YELENA
What little hope I had of being rescued shrank even more when Janco’s sarcastic voice sounded. He’d been captured, too. And from his comments, he was as surprised as I had been upon seeing Owen Moon alive and well. Despite the Commander’s message to the Sitian Council, informing them of Owen’s execution four years ago. Why hadn’t the Commander killed him? The answer flashed in my mind.
Owen had been busy working for the Commander. And it didn’t take a genius to guess what he had been doing—learning how to manufacture Curare.
But why would the Commander wish to shut Owen down? Owen smirked at me. His posture like a hunter’s, gloating over his kill. Cocky bastard. And I’d bet that particular personality trait of his was what had pissed the Commander off. He’d rescued his brother, alerting the Sitians, and I’d guess he was selling Curare to other interested parties. Yep, I’d wager more than a few gold coins that was what had happened.
Of course, it would have been useful to have figured this out sooner. Before I’d been tied to the wagon and gagged. The knowledge didn’t help my situation. Nor Janco’s.
“Where is your companion?” Owen asked Janco for the second time.
No answer. Janco would never tell him.
“Loris, jog his memory,” Owen ordered.
Janco cried out. A thump sounded. “Nooo...” He groaned.
Helpless, I struggled against the ropes as I listened to Janco’s distress increase as Loris pulled the information from Janco’s mind. I’d been assaulted the same way when I’d first arrived at the Magician’s Keep. Janco had another reason to hate magic. Right now, I hated it, too.
He rushed to finish checking the basement. It was empty of goods and magic. And Yelena. They had taken her with them. Valek needed to find them.
Fast.
31
JANCO
Where was Onora? She should have been back by now. Janco circled the smuggler’s farm another time. The place was big and surrounded by a chain-link fence, but he doubted any actual farming went on in there. Lots of barns, people and activity, but no cows, crops or farm equipment. Each hour that passed brought more wagons and sketchy-looking goons. Where was Onora?
Plus Janco thought he’d spotted that Ben Moon guy Yelena had talked about. The man resembled her description, and she’d suspected he might be involved. He thought about the fugitive. That rescue op from Wirral Prison would have cost a bundle. And what better way to raise money than smuggling? Selling Curare. No doubt you could collect lots and lots of gold for Curare.
He watched the compound from a low branch in a tree and kept track of people going into and between buildings, counting heads and guessing their jobs. The sun set and lanterns were lit—a good indication of which structures were occupied. Tired of waiting for Onora, Janco decided to sneak into the compound later and have a look around.
When the activity diminished, Janco ghosted along the fence until he found a dark area out of sight from the main buildings. He climbed over the ten-foot-high fence. A weird tingle lingered on his palms. Janco rubbed them on his pants. Must be from the cold.
The first barn he explored smelled authentic. Yuck. Moldy straw bales mixed with crates of goods. The second place was even more uninteresting. However, hidden between two buildings was a strange-looking structure. The one-story-high oversize shed had been constructed with glass. Odd. Janco moved closer. Water beaded the glass on the inside. Dark leafy plants filled the interior. He circled it and found the entrance. Locked. But not for long.
Hot steamy air along with the rich earthy smells of the jungle puffed in his face when he opened the door. Janco entered. Various plants and bushes filled the room along with pools of water and two red-hot woodstoves. A thick vine wove through the foliage. The Curare vine.
This was bad. Really bad. If they were growing their own vines here, they could be growing them anywhere. He’d assumed they brought the vines up from the Illiais Jungle. That would be easier to stop than finding these little glass hothouses.
Time to leave. Janco exited the...jungle. He turned to relock the door and a sharp point pricked him in the back.
Three sharp points, actually.
“Hands up,” a voice said.
Damn. Not much he could do. He spread his arms, but kept his hands low. They took his sword, knife and lock picks. Well, one set, anyway. Then manacled his hands behind his back. Pushing on his shoulder, they led him to another building. Not the chattiest bunch, either, which meant he’d been ambushed by a trio of grunts. A blow to his ego, for sure.
A number of people were inside the new building. The guy he guessed was Ben was there, but also another man he recognized, who stood inside a wagon. This had gone beyond bad. Janco was screwed.
“Well, well, well. Isn’t this just a happy reunion? Yelena, guess who came to visit? Your friend...Janco, is it?”
“Pretty good memory for a dead guy,” Janco said. He glanced around, but didn’t see Yelena. She must be on the floor of the wagon and under a null shield, otherwise the jerk wouldn’t be so cocky.
Owen Moon beamed at him. “I always remember the faces and names of my enemies. I don’t want to forget to kill anyone.”
32
YELENA
What little hope I had of being rescued shrank even more when Janco’s sarcastic voice sounded. He’d been captured, too. And from his comments, he was as surprised as I had been upon seeing Owen Moon alive and well. Despite the Commander’s message to the Sitian Council, informing them of Owen’s execution four years ago. Why hadn’t the Commander killed him? The answer flashed in my mind.
Owen had been busy working for the Commander. And it didn’t take a genius to guess what he had been doing—learning how to manufacture Curare.
But why would the Commander wish to shut Owen down? Owen smirked at me. His posture like a hunter’s, gloating over his kill. Cocky bastard. And I’d bet that particular personality trait of his was what had pissed the Commander off. He’d rescued his brother, alerting the Sitians, and I’d guess he was selling Curare to other interested parties. Yep, I’d wager more than a few gold coins that was what had happened.
Of course, it would have been useful to have figured this out sooner. Before I’d been tied to the wagon and gagged. The knowledge didn’t help my situation. Nor Janco’s.
“Where is your companion?” Owen asked Janco for the second time.
No answer. Janco would never tell him.
“Loris, jog his memory,” Owen ordered.
Janco cried out. A thump sounded. “Nooo...” He groaned.
Helpless, I struggled against the ropes as I listened to Janco’s distress increase as Loris pulled the information from Janco’s mind. I’d been assaulted the same way when I’d first arrived at the Magician’s Keep. Janco had another reason to hate magic. Right now, I hated it, too.
