Leif pulled me aside before I could saddle Kiki.
“What’s with the stiff?” his voice hissed in my ear.
“Irys thought I should have more protection. Seemed like a good idea.”
“It is, but why Skippy?”
“Skippy?”
“Hale. Let’s just say we don’t get along.”
Oh great. “Irys assigned him. Are you saying he’s not trustworthy?”
Leif sucked in a deep breath. “No. He’s loyal and has plenty of magic.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“He’s...annoying.”
I laughed. “So are you.”
He frowned. “I’m funny and lovable. He’s...a snob and thinks our Zaltana magic is impure.”
“I don’t care what he thinks. Is he good in a fight?”
“Yeah.” The word tore from Leif’s lips as if it pained him to say it.
“Then we’ll let Garnet decide if he’s worthy. If the horse rejects him, we will, too. Okay?”
Another huff. “Okay.” Leif pulled a thick silver chain from his pocket. Dangling from the chain was a clear glass octopus about the size of my palm. “Here.” He handed it to me. “It’s from Quinn. There’s a null shield attached to it so when you wear it next to your heart it protects your entire body.”
“Thanks.” I looped the chain around my neck and tucked the lifelike octopus under my shirt. The cold glass sent a shiver through me.
Leif returned to Rusalka. The sorrel-and-white horse nuzzled his neck.
Kiki unlatched her stall with her teeth and stood by her tack. I stroked her neck. A sudden wave of grief rose in my throat, strangling me. Pressing my forehead to her shoulder, I endured the torment. I missed my connection with Kiki the most.
Eventually, she snorted and pawed the ground as if to say, “Stop wallowing in pity and get moving.”
I saddled her and attached plenty of feed bags. The plains would have enough water. When I finished, I mounted and glanced around. Leif sat on Rusalka, looking dour, and Hale pulled himself into Garnet’s saddle. Hale’s expression from atop the tall horse was a mix of awe and terror. Sandseed horses had a reputation for being stubborn and willful and intelligent.
“Just follow us and you shouldn’t have any trouble,” I said to Hale.
“No trouble?”
“With the horse. I can’t make any guarantees about the mission.”
“Yeah, I heard that about you.”
“Oh?”
“No disrespect intended. It’s just you have a certain...reputation.” Hale cleared his throat. “I’m honored to accompany you.”
Leif rolled his eyes. “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you, Skippy?”
Ignoring my brother, I spurred Kiki toward the Keep’s gate. If we hurried, we could be in the Avibian Plains by nightfall. We left the Keep, then threaded through the afternoon Citadel traffic. We crossed through the southern exit without a problem and continued south. Once we reached the plains, we’d turn east before cutting north to Fulgor.
I really didn’t expect trouble until we arrived in Fulgor. But minutes after we cleared the gate, the rumble of many horses at full gallop sounded behind us.
Leif glanced at me as we moved to the right side of the road. His hand rested on the hilt of his machete. Hale’s face pinched tight. A small part of me hoped the riders were just in a hurry and would pass us. But a cold dread churned in my stomach, warning me.
Sure enough, the riders surrounded us. They stopped and blocked our path. Leif yanked his machete out, and in response, seven soldiers pulled their weapons and pointed them at us.
12
VALEK
As Onora threatened Janco with her knife, Ari stood, holding a dagger in each of his massive hands. Even though Janco was grinning, he’d palmed his switchblade.
“Save it for later,” Valek said, stopping the inevitable. “You can spar with Onora in the training yard tomorrow.” When no one moved, he banged a fist on his desk. “Weapons down. Now.”
Ari and Janco returned their knives to various hidden holders without hesitation. Onora waited a few heartbeats before slipping the weapon into her pocket. Valek noted a few other telltale bulges, indicating a number of hidden surprises. She wore the uniform Dilana had given her, but she yanked at the collar as if uncomfortable.
“Onora, you must learn to ignore Janco’s taunts. He’s testing you. Being quick to anger is not a desirable trait in my corps,” Valek said. He gestured to the empty chair. “Sit down.”
Ari remained on his feet until she sat. Then he settled next to Janco, who lounged back as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Except Valek knew better. Janco was far from relaxed.
“Ari, please update Onora on what we’ve learned so far,” Valek ordered. He studied the young woman’s body language as Ari detailed their investigation.
Onora perched on the edge of her seat. She listened with her head cocked slightly to the right and her hands clasped in her lap near another concealed knife. He hadn’t returned hers, yet she was well armed. Interesting.
When Ari finished, Valek asked, “What’s our next move?”
“Interrogate the smugglers, find out who their boss is and where their headquarters is located,” Janco said.
“Let one of them escape and follow him,” Ari suggested.
“Find another group selling black-market goods and infiltrate them,” Onora said.
All good suggestions. “It’s doubtful the location of their headquarters is still the same since the arrests. However, learning who is in charge will be a step in the right direction.”
Janco puffed out his chest.
“I also liked the other ideas. The three of you will work together as a team and implement them.”
Janco no longer looked so pleased. Ari frowned at Onora. They were going to be difficult about working with her.
“Your first team meeting is tomorrow after the morning exercises. We’ll meet in the training yard for a workout session. Then you can plan a timeline and task list for finding the smugglers. You’re dismissed.”
They stood. Ari and Janco left after shooting a couple of glares at Onora. She lingered behind.
“Yes?” he asked.
“You promised to return my weapons tonight.”
“I did.”
She didn’t flinch from his scrutiny. Cocky. He’d never been that cocky even in his prime. Then again...Valek had placed black statues he’d carved on his targets’ pillows, warning them just to make it more difficult to assassinate them. Very cocky.
“Well?” she asked.
“You actually want me to check my locked drawer and find it empty? So you can smirk over getting one over on me? Considering that you’ve already recovered your weapons, it seemed like a waste of time.”
Two small splotches reddened her cheeks.
Gotcha. “You shouldn’t have threatened Janco. That tipped me off that you were armed.”
Keeping her mouth shut, she nodded.
“Experience counts for more than you think.” Valek rubbed his chest, remembering when he’d hunted Ambrose, believing it would be an easy kill. “I know you don’t believe me. You won’t believe me until you’re standing here, facing some young hotshot determined to take your job.”
“Are you saying you’ve just realized this now?”
He laughed. “Oh no. I’ve been facing young hotshots since the takeover twenty-three years ago. You are not the first to challenge me.”
“No. I’ll be the last.”
“That has yet to be determined. Let’s see how you do working with Ari and Janco before I turn over my office keys.”
She moved to leave, then paused. “How...? What is the best way to work with them?”
Ah progress. “Listen to them. They’ve years of experience, but don’t be afraid to speak up if you have a better idea. They might not like it, but they know a good idea when they hear one. Even Janco. He’s used to listening to the voice of reason.”
“And that’s Ari’s voice.”
“Yes. Unless Ari’s being emotional. Then he can be very unreasonable.” Valek watched for a reaction.
Onora pressed her lips together. “Nothing wrong with emotion.”
He’d hit a nerve. “Only at the right time and place.” Yelena had taught him that. “But when Ari gets into his protective mode, he will rush into danger without a thought to his own survival.”
“Why is that bad?”
“Since you have to ask, I’m guessing that was part of the training you didn’t agree with Hedda about.”
“Emotion gives us strength.”
“At the right time and place.”
She shook her head as if he couldn’t possibly understand.
“It’s the reason you lost last night.”
“I lost because you cheated,” she said, anger stiffening her posture.
“Keep thinking that. Then I won’t have to worry about finding another job.”
Onora spun on her heel and left without another word.
Valek returned to his desk. Contemplating their conversation, he dug through the reports. Onora’s comment—emotion gives us strength—repeated in his mind.
* * *
During the second stage of his assassin training, Valek hadn’t been able to beat T-quin in hand to hand despite hours of practice and lifting weights until his muscles shook with exhaustion.
In order to move to the next level, he had to win a match against T-quin. Their fights lasted longer and longer, but always ended the same.
“Pinned you, Wanna Be.” T-quin pressed his knees into Valek’s shoulders, proving his point. He released him and stood. Sweat coated his chest and soaked his hair. He puffed from the exertion, but offered Valek a hand up.
Valek ignored it as anger pulsed through him. He sprang to his feet ready to try again.
“That’s enough for now, Wanna Be. I don’t want to injure you,” T-quin said.
“No. I almost had you. You can’t stop now.”
“All right, but don’t go crying to Hedda if I break your leg.”
They faced each other. Both stood in fighting stances. Dark purple bruises stained Valek’s knuckles and circles of red, green and black bruising marked his chest, arms and thighs where T-quin had punched or kicked him.
T-quin shuffled forward and snapped his foot out. Valek blocked the blow with his forearm and countered with a roundhouse kick. T-quin sidestepped and received only a glancing blow. But Valek didn’t wait for a counterstrike. He hooked his foot behind T-quin’s ankle and yanked. T-quin hit the ground rolling. Valek chased him, but he sprang to his feet and, using Valek’s momentum, flipped Valek over his head. His breath whooshed from his lungs as he landed.
T-quin laughed. “So predictable, Wanna Be. You’ve no imagination.”
Fury gave Valek a surge of energy. He scrambled to his feet and rushed his opponent. T-quin once again dipped and threw Valek over his shoulder.
The match continued. T-quin taunted and Valek attacked only to end up on the ground.
“Pinned, again,” T-quin said, digging his heels into Valek’s hips.
Valek lumbered to his feet. Battered with bruises on top of bruises, he shuffled over to the water pitcher for a drink.
“Lose the anger,” Hedda said.
He jerked in surprise. No sound warned of her approach, and he hadn’t known she had watched his match against T-quin.
She regarded him with a frankness he’d learned to admire.
“But T-quin—”
“This has nothing to do with T-quin or your vendetta. T-quin is baiting you on purpose. When you get angry, you make mistakes. Mistakes he can use to his advantage. And you are very quick to anger.”
He drew breath to argue, but she had a point. Fury at the King, the soldiers and even his parents had fueled his desire to learn and improve his skills.
“Lose the anger, then lose all those other annoying emotions while you’re at it. In order to be an assassin, you must be rational, logical, cunning, ruthless and emotionless. Those soft feelings have no place in an assassin’s heart or head. They make you weak.”
While he agreed with her, he’d been holding on to his passion for revenge for so long, he worried he’d lose his desire to see the King’s blood on his hands.
“Determination, persistence, concentration, focus and drive are not emotions,” she said. “Put your emotions aside or you will not succeed in this program. You have ten days.” She strode away.
T-quin stood nearby. He raised his hand and then bent it at the wrist as he lowered it while making a whistling sound. “Hope you can fly, Wanna Be. Even if you miss the rocks, the current will drown you. Splash!” He laughed and returned to the training floor.
Arbon met Valek’s gaze as he took a break from his match. He’d been working with another instructor for the past few weeks and showed an affinity for hand to hand. Arbon would soon advance to the next level.
Was competition an emotion? The thought of being pushed to his death failed to ignite fear in Valek’s heart. The challenge of ten days did more for his motivation than anything else.
However, recognizing a weakness remained easier than overcoming it. Although Valek knew T-quin baited him, the anger boiled inside him, pressing to be released. If anything, his temper shortened. And the heating season’s hotter temperatures didn’t help, either.
Valek’s matches with Arbon and some of the others had gone mostly in his favor until news about his weakness spread. After another frustrating, fruitless day of training, Valek dragged his battered body to his favorite spot overlooking the Sunset Ocean, which was awash in the pinks, oranges and golds cast by the setting sun.
He grabbed a handful of the gray rocks and tossed them one by one out into the sea, wishing he could throw his emotions away as easily. Or rather, evict the anger that had infested him. Valek imagined it as a black, oily rot flowing through his veins, pumping through his heart, twisting around his thoughts.
“Jump, Wanna Be,” T-quin yelled. “Save Hedda the trouble of tossing your sorry ass over the edge herself.”
Valek’s grip tightened. The stones cracked in his hands and the desire to whip them at T-quin’s head rose in his chest. He refrained from the action. Instead, he channeled his anger into the unyielding cold rocks cutting into his palms.
“What? No retort? Afraid I’ll trounce you again?”
Valek stood and walked past T-quin without saying a word. When he reached his room, he sat on the edge of the bed and opened his hands. Blood covered the stones. The force of his grip had cracked them in half. Inside lurked a sleek blackness with glints of silver.
He reached under his bed for the stones he’d carried back during the first stage of his training. The gray outer coating had been scratched off and revealed the same black-and-silver interior.
Taking out his knife, he chipped away at the dull gray on one of the rocks. He concentrated on carving the stone, letting his rage and frustration disappear for a while. When it was too dark to see, he lit a lantern and continued. Instead of reporting for training the next day, he remained in his room, working on the stones. Their inner beauty fascinated him and he scraped away the parts that didn’t belong.
Odd that he saw a shape trapped within the stone. A figure that had to be released. He worked for hours, neither eating nor sleeping until he finished. Then he collapsed.
The sound of knocking woke him.
“Valek,” Arbon called. “Are you okay?” He twisted the knob, but the door was locked.
/> “I’m fine,” he called.
“T-quin’s gonna be pissed. He bet Eden a gold you jumped off the cliff.”
“I’m happy to disappoint him.”
“Are you coming to training? You only have two days left.”
Valek rolled over and gazed at his collection of rock statues. The crude figurines stood in a row. One wore a crown, three others held swords and a couple held hands. His father had done nothing to stop the soldiers from murdering his brothers. His mother had disowned him.
“Valek?”
“I’m not going.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry, Arbon. I’ll be there for the test.”
“You better. I’ve two silvers on the line.”
“I’m touched you would risk so much.”
“Who says I’m betting on you?” Arbon’s booming laugh rumbled through the door.
Valek spent the next two days sleeping, eating and recovering his strength. The morning before his test fight, he stood at the cliff’s edge holding the statues in his hands.
He whipped the king figure out into the air. Determination replaced anger. The three soldiers went over the edge one by one. Persistence would aid him as he hunted down these three murderers. Tossing the couple holding hands together, he sent the last of his weaknesses out into the abyss. If he cared for no one, then the pain of grief would never touch him again.
When Valek arrived at the training room, he squeezed through a press of people. Trainers, students and teachers had all come to watch the fight. A murmur spread as they spotted him.
As Valek warmed up, Arbon pushed his way next to him.
“Will ya look at this crowd,” Arbon said. “I’d call them morbid, but they are training to be assassins or are already cold-blooded killers.” He sounded cheery. “Guess there hasn’t been anyone tossed over the cliff in a while.”
“Your confidence in me is heartwarming.”
Arbon slapped Valek on the shoulder and wished him luck.
Valek stretched his stiff muscles. At least they didn’t ache as much. The rest had done him good.
“Are you ready, Wanna Be? I want to collect my winnings,” T-quin called.