“What if one of the locals decides to investigate?”
“We can message the various security forces to keep everyone away until one of the Master Magicians clears it.”
* * *
The next morning, Leif sent Devlen to dispatch the messages to the towns near the glass houses while he communicated with Irys via his super messenger. He tapped into the vast magic stored within the black diamond that had been encased in glass. Using the extra power boost, he connected his thoughts to her thoughts. When she dropped her protective barrier, Leif explained about the booby traps.
I’m not sure when one of us can leave, Irys said. The Council is still reeling from the news the Commander may have Curare.
Annoyance colored his thoughts. He has Curare. It’s not a guess.
I know, but there’s no proof.
Outraged, Leif countered, We’ve seen the factory and the vines growing. Owen boasted to Yelena that he made a deal with the Commander to produce it. What more do they need?
Evidence, Leif. Not hearsay.
Hearsay? They doubt Yelena’s word? Anger flared.
Yelena’s been dealing with the loss of her magic and a number of assassination attempts. The Council needs to hear the story directly from her. But she’s gone to Ixia instead. Don’t you see how that compromises her report?
Unfortunately, he understood the Council’s position. They wouldn’t accuse the Commander of anything unless they had verification. And it didn’t help that Ben, Loris and Cilly had been silenced. The knowledge from Owen’s accomplices would have provided plenty of confirmation.
What about the efforts to locate Owen? he asked. Have they coordinated with the Moon Clan’s security forces?
They’re not organizing anything. Aside from Yelena, the people who have allegedly seen Owen alive are all Ixian.
So basically, the Sitian Council has done nothing at all.
They’re discussing how to prepare the army if the Commander does indeed have Curare. The first step has already been decided. They agreed that we need to discover a way to mass-produce Theobroma.
Theobroma neutralized Curare, but the substance removed a regular person’s resistance to magic and stripped a magician of all protective barriers. Using Theobroma wouldn’t be a concern if fighting Ixia. No, the problem would be growing enough of the trees whose pods provided the main ingredient. The tree only thrived in the Illiais Jungle and it required three to five years of growth before it produced pods. Maybe they could grow them in those hothouses. But it would still take years to manufacture enough for an army.
Who is working on the Theobroma problem?
Bavol Cacao Zaltana has volunteered.
No surprise. However, Leif wasn’t sure they could trust his clan’s leader anymore. Without anything more substantial than his gut instinct, he couldn’t accuse the man.
What can I do? he asked instead.
Find proof that Owen is alive and has committed treason, so we can convince the Council to start a manhunt for him.
Easier said than done. How about Owen’s head on a silver platter?
That will work, too.
I’ll sharpen my machete.
Make sure you treat it with Curare and are extremely careful. Owen’s more powerful than you.
Yelena had worried about that as well, which reminded him. Have you heard from Yelena?
Not since she left for Ixia. You?
Worry for his sister squeezed his gut. No.
Let me know if you do.
I will. You, too.
Of course.
Please tell Mara I miss her and hope to be home soon. A pang of longing vibrated in his chest. Miss wasn’t a strong enough word for how he felt.
I will. Keep me posted on your progress.
Yes, sir.
Irys laughed. You’ve been hanging around those Ixians too long.
* * *
Leif and Devlen arrived at the farmhouse two days after he’d spoken with Irys. A young man sat on the steps, but he jumped to his feet when he spotted them and followed them to the stable. When the man approached, Leif rested his hand on the hilt of his machete.
“Are you Leif Liana Zaltana?” the man asked.
“Yes.”
“Finally! This is for you.” The young man shoved a sealed envelope at him then dashed away.
Devlen joined him. “A message?”
“Or another booby trap.” Leif sniffed it, seeking the sender’s intentions. It smelled of impatience and boredom—probably from the messenger. Otherwise, there was no malice or magic.
He ripped it open, read the message and laughed. “It’s a warning to stay away from the glass houses. Seems my sister also triggered a booby trap.”
“Was anyone hurt?” Concern laced Devlen’s voice.
“Cuts only. Nothing serious.” In comparison to her experience, the fire didn’t seem as terrible. Better than razor-sharp glass flying toward your head.
“Does it say anything about locating Owen?”
“They haven’t seen any signs of him.” And he and Devlen had gotten nowhere with their efforts. Damn. Owen could be anywhere by now.
* * *
Devlen decided to return to Fulgor. “Reema is safe in Ixia, and I can tap into my network.”
“You mean your band of ex-cons?” Leif asked.
“I prefer to call them friends. And they are able to provide information that the security officials cannot. Perhaps they will have a clue that will lead us to Owen.”
“It’s worth trying. Plus you haven’t seen Opal in three weeks.”
Devlen grinned. “Returning home after a long absence is always a delight.”
“I hear you, brother.”
A touch of envy swirled in his chest when Devlen left the next day. Leif had been away for thirty-five long days, with no set time for his return. Reuniting with his wife, Mara, was the best part of traveling. She was always more beautiful than he remembered. Kinder, gentler, patient—perfect. She filled all the hollow spots inside him, making him a better, stronger man.
* * *
Esau arrived three days later. There was no mistaking that the man was Leif’s father. They shared the same broad shoulders and stocky yet muscular build. Almost twins, except wrinkles etched tracks across Esau’s forehead and laugh lines sprouted from the corners of his green eyes. His father’s complexion was also a few shades darker—closer to the color of tea without milk.
As soon as Esau dismounted, he crushed Leif in a bear hug. “So where’s this glass house?”
“Don’t you want to freshen up first?” Leif asked.
A film of dirt covered Esau’s clothes. His shoulder-length gray hair hung in greasy layers.
He waved a hand. “There’s time for that later. I’ve spent the last fifteen days just imagining this invention.”
Leif led his father to the glass structure.
Esau exclaimed over the construction as he circled it. “Amazing. Wish I thought of it. The ability to grow the jungle anywhere. Marvelous.” Then he sobered. “Too bad it was used to grow Curare.” He ducked his head. “Wish I never found that blighted vine.”
Leif suppressed a sigh over the old argument. “The good uses outweigh the bad, Father. You know that.” No matter how many examples Leif and Yelena cited of the drug helping others, their father clung to his guilt like a child clung to a security blanket.
They entered the house.
Esau paused and drew in a deep breath. “It doesn’t quite smell like the jungle. What’s that sweet odor?”
“White coal to keep it hot.”
“Genius!” Esau walked among the plants, naming them aloud.
The Curare vine with its emerald heart-shaped leaves twisted through the greenery. Underneath the bushy canopy, the Theobroma trees grew. Their thin, brownish-gray trunks blended in, along with their long oval leaves. Tiny white flowers clung to the bark. Once pollinated, these blooms would produce pods filled with beans that would be dried, fermented and r
oasted, transforming them into Theobroma.
“Nice to see some medicinal ones in here.” Esau crawled through the brush with his nose close to the ground.
Memories of accompanying his father on one of his jungle expeditions flashed. Hiking through the underbrush, sweating in the humid air, climbing trees, collecting samples, Leif had trailed after his indefatigable father, who questioned him on the uses and names of every bit of greenery they encountered. And Leif had done nothing but complain of being hot and tired while scratching numerous bug bites. What a brat.
Leif had his father to thank for his knowledge of healing recipes. Those teas and poultices had saved lives and helped others. But he wouldn’t tell his father that everyone called Esau’s most prized and useful discovery “wet-dog tea.”
It didn’t take Esau long to find the crossbred plants in the hothouse.
“Odd. Very odd,” Esau muttered. He broke off a leaf, sniffed the sap and nibbled on the end.
“Do you know what plants they combined? What they were trying to do?” Leif asked.
“Not yet. It’s going to take a while.”
“Then I’ll see to the horses and fetch you some food.”
“Yes...yes...fine.” Esau scratched the stem with a fingernail and peered at the wound.
Leaving his father to his investigation, Leif groomed the horses, filled their water and grain buckets and checked the tack for wear. When he returned with a tray of fruit and meats, Esau sat cross-legged in the middle of the house. He stared in shock at the branch in his hands.
Leif rushed to his side. “What’s the matter?”
“This.” His father held it up.
“What about it?”
“It’s a cross between the Curare vine and the Theobroma tree.”
It took a moment for it to sink in. “You mean—”
“These people are trying to create Theobroma-resistant Curare!”
10
YELENA
Shocked into silence, I stared at Valek’s bleeding chest. His question bounced around my mind, searching for a place to settle. The deep cut resembled a heart—one half carved by the Commander and the other by Valek, creating a symbol of his love for me. Valek had chosen me over the Commander. A warm sensation swept through my body, turning my insides to goo.
“Yelena?” A hitch cracked his voice. He remained on his knees, waiting for my answer.
Valek’s face had paled to bone white. I’d never seen him so vulnerable.
Sliding from my chair, I knelt in front of him. I took his knife—still wet with his blood—from his hand and sliced my tunic open. Then I pressed the tip into the flesh in the center of my chest. Pain buzzed like an annoying fly. I ignored it as I carved a fist-sized heart shape directly over my thumping heart and between my breasts. “Yes, Valek. I will marry you.”
His tight expression transformed as joy sparked in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close as his lips found mine. Red-hot spikes of sensation shot down to my toes. My muscles shivered and my skin caught fire. The need to run my hands over his lean, powerful body pulsated over every inch of my being.
Far too soon he stopped. Before I could protest at the interruption, he pressed his chest to mine. My wound burned with the contact and with the sting of his blood mixing with mine.
“Till death. I do swear, love.” Valek whispered in my ear.
“Beyond death. My vow to you,” I said.
He drew back to meet my gaze. “So we shall be. Forever united.”
“We shall be,” I agreed.
This time his kiss vibrated to the very core of my soul. Our pledge solidified our connection, creating an unbreakable bond.
“Clothes...off...” I said between kisses.
The speed of our disrobement took what little breath I had away. But then breathing no longer mattered. My senses filled with the intoxicating smell, feel and touch of Valek as he lowered my shoulders to the floor. Nothing in life compared to being linked with him. Together we were one.
* * *
Movement roused me, then cold air hitting parts of my body that should not be exposed to cold air. I groaned in protest.
Valek pushed up to one elbow. “Sorry, love. But I need...”
“To what?” I untangled my legs from his. The cut on my chest throbbed. For the first time in my life, I savored the pain. It meant so much.
“...to tell you—”
“What happened with the Commander?” No doubt the meeting went horribly wrong. When he’d arrived, I’d feared the worst. He appeared so devastated. I had never seen him like that, not even when the Commander had signed the order for my execution and extended the document to Valek.
“Yes.”
I waited for more, but he stared off into the distance as if searching for a good place to start.
“Why did the Commander feel it necessary to remind you of your oath?” I asked, helping him along.
“He cited a number of reasons, but it pretty much boils down to the fact that Owen’s his guest and he wanted to ensure I didn’t assassinate him, Tyen and Rika while they are here.”
“Oh.” So many thoughts jammed into my head. The first, we were all dead, summed up the fear and panic that dominated. Owen must have taken control of the Commander’s mind. Ixia and Sitia were both in huge trouble and... We were all dead. That one was hard to move past.
“Yelena, I want you to leave this afternoon. Return to Sitia where it’s safer. I’ll message when it’s over.”
“No. We just exchanged vows and mixed our blood. Leaving you now would be the same as cutting myself in half. We’ll figure this out together. We always do. Remember? No doubts.”
He struggled to find a reply. I used his own words, so in order for him to dispute me, he would have to discredit his own logic.
“Don’t look so smug. What about Reema?” Valek asked.
That was easy. “We’ll send her home with an armed escort. I’m sure Opal and Devlen miss her.”
His shoulders sagged. “If anything happens...”
I hugged him. “We’re stronger together. And shall always be.” The last part set a joyful thrill spinning around my heart.
He leaned back. “We need to keep that quiet for now. And I’m sure your family will want a celebration.”
“Yes, they will be disappointed if we didn’t.”
“After this mess with Owen is finished, we’ll arrange a big wedding and get married again.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I wish figuring out what to do about Owen was as easy.”
I considered. “He won’t do anything overt. At least not yet. He’s a guest for now. We need to determine if he has control of the Commander’s mind. And then learn what he is plotting and stop him before he moves.”
“We can discuss how to go about it this afternoon with Ari and Janco.”
“And Maren?”
He frowned. “It depends on if she knew about Owen’s bargain with the Commander.”
“What about Onora?”
“I still haven’t decided if I can trust her.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Then you need to know a few things about her history.”
Valek filled me in as we washed and bandaged our cuts. I searched for a clean tunic and finished dressing.
“So the man...this Captain Timmer, who abused her, is in the dungeon and she doesn’t know?” I asked.
“Not yet. I haven’t had time to tell her.”
“And what do you expect her to do once she knows?”
“Kill him.”
“I don’t think she will.”
“Why not? You killed the man who raped and tortured you. I took great satisfaction in assassinating the King and the men who murdered my brothers.”
“I killed Reyad to stop him from abusing others. But I still didn’t feel better inside. I had to rediscover my sense of self-worth and had to stop thinking of myself as a victim.”
Valek rested h
is hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “Then you’re the best one to talk to her. Let me know when I can trust her.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have my magic. What if I get it wrong?”
“You won’t.”
* * *
When I arrived at Valek’s office for the afternoon meeting, I paused at the threshold. A few unexpected people sat around his conference table. At least Valek had taken the time to clear it off. The clutter hadn’t gone far. Tall piles of books and files wobbled on the floor nearby.
Valek and Maren stood by his desk near the back wall. By their intense expressions and whispered conversation, I guessed he was having his heart-to-heart with her about her involvement with Owen.
Janco waved me over, appearing rather energetic for having had less sleep than I. Sitting between Janco and Onora, I glanced across the table. Another man I didn’t recognize sat opposite me. Almost as broad as Ari, he studied me with interest gleaming in his light brown eyes.
I elbowed Janco in the ribs.
“Ouch. What... Oh. Yelena, this is Sergeant Grunt. Grunt, this is Liaison Yelena, the Soulfinder and Valek’s heart mate. You do not want to mess with her.”
Stretching my hand toward him, I said, “Just ignore him. We find that’s best for all concerned.” We shook hands. “What is your real name?”
“Sergeant Gerik, sir.”
The sir was a nice touch. I turned to Janco. “Where’s Ari?”
“He’s—”
“Aunt Yelena!” Reema raced into the room.
I stood in time to get knocked back into my seat by her flying hug. “I’ve missed you, too.” She clutched me tight. “Can’t...breathe.”
Releasing me, she laughed. “That’s my necklace-snake move. I clamp on and squeeze until the person passes out. Do you like it?”
“It’s very effective.”
She beamed.
“Did you invent it or—”
“Lacole taught me. She said since I’m small, my best defense in hand to hand is to clamp on and not let go.”
“Death by hug. I love it,” Janco said.
“Which explains why no one wants to date you,” Onora muttered.
Stopping Janco’s outraged retort, I asked Reema, “Lacole? Hand to hand?”