Maria V. Snyder Collection: Poison Study. Maria Snyder V.
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it appeared the butterfly might beat its wings and lift into the air at any moment. I admired the other statues. The same devoted care had been applied to each. Lifelike animals, insects and flowers lined the table; apparently, nature provided the artist’s favorite subjects.
Stunned, I realized Valek must be the artist. Here was a side of Valek I never imagined existed. I felt as though I had intruded upon his most personal secret. As if I had uncovered a wife and children living up here in happy seclusion, complete with the family dog.
I had noticed the figurines on Valek’s desk and, at least once a day, I glanced at the snow cat in the Commander’s office, attempting to understand why he had selected that particular statue for display. I now understood its significance. Valek had carved it for the Commander.
The shuffle of feet made me whirl around. A black shape rushed me. My knife was yanked from my grasp and pressed against my neck. Fear clenched my throat tight, suffocating me. The familiar feeling triggered a sudden flashback of soldiers disarming and dragging me off Reyad’s dead body. But Valek’s face showed mirth instead of wrath.
“Snooping?” Valek asked, stepping back.
With effort, I banished my fear and remembered to start breathing again. “I heard a noise. I came to…”
“Investigate.” Valek finished my sentence. “Searching for an intruder is different from examining statues.” He pointed with the knife to the butterfly clutched in my hand. “You were snooping.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Curiosity is a commendable trait. I wondered when you would explore up here. Find anything interesting?”
I held up the butterfly. “It’s beautiful.”
He shrugged. “Carving focuses my mind.”
I placed the statue on the table, my hand lingering over it. I would have enjoyed studying the butterfly in the sunlight. Grabbing the lantern, I followed Valek from the room.
“I really did hear a noise,” I said.
“I know. I knocked a book over to see what you would do. I didn’t expect a knife, though. Is it the one missing from the kitchen?”
“Did Rand report it?” I felt betrayed. Why hadn’t he just asked for it back?
“No. It just makes sense to keep track of large kitchen knives, so when one goes missing you’re not surprised when someone attacks you with it.” Valek handed the knife back. “You should return it. Knives won’t help you against the caliber of people after you.”
Valek and I descended the stairs. I lifted the botany book from the couch.
“What does the Commander think of the pods?” Valek asked.
“He thinks they’re from Sitia. He returned them to me so I could discover what they are. I’ve been doing research in the library.” I showed Valek the book.
He took it from me and flipped through the pages. “Find anything?”
“Not yet.”
“Your actions as our fugitive must have impressed the Commander. Normally, he would have assigned this sort of thing to one of his science advisers.”
Valek’s words made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t convinced that I could discover the origin of the pods and beans. The idea of failing the Commander made me queasy. I changed the subject. “Where did the caravan go?”
Valek paused, undecided. Finally, he said, “Brazell’s new factory.” If Valek had been surprised by his discovery, it didn’t show on his face.
It occurred to me that despite all the discussion about Brazell’s permit, I didn’t know what he was planning to make. “What’s the product?”
“It’s supposed to be a feed mill.” Valek handed the book back to me. “And I don’t know why he would need those pods and beans. Maybe they’re a secret ingredient. Maybe they’re added to the feed to enhance the cow’s milk supply. Then every farmer would buy Brazell’s feed instead of growing his own. Or something along that line. Or maybe not. I’m not an expert.” Valek pulled at his hair. “I’ll have to study his permit to see what I’m missing. Either way, I assigned some of my corps to stake out the route and infiltrate the factory. At this point I need more information.”
“Brazell left the castle this afternoon.”
“I passed his retinue on my way back. Good. One less thing to worry about.”
Valek crossed to his desk and began sorting through his papers. I watched his back for a while, waiting. He didn’t mention my moving out. I finally worked up the nerve to ask. “Should I return to my old room now that Brazell’s gone?” I berated myself for my choice of words. I should have been firmer, but it was too late.
Valek stopped. I held my breath.
“No,” he said. “You’re still in danger. The magician hasn’t been dealt with yet.” His pen resumed its course over the paper.
Strong relief flushed through my body like a hot wave, alarming me. Why did I want to stay with him? Remaining was dangerous, illogical, and, by every argument I could muster, the worst situation for me. The book on magic was still hidden in my backpack, which went with me everywhere because I feared Valek would pull one of his stunts and surprise me.
Damn it, I thought, angry at myself. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about. I shouldn’t miss Valek; I should try harder to escape. I shouldn’t figure out the bean puzzle; I should sabotage it. I shouldn’t admire and respect him; I should vilify him. Shouldn’t, should, shouldn’t, should. So easy to say but so hard to believe.
“Exactly how do you deal with a magician?” I asked.
He turned around in his seat and looked at me. “I’ve told you before.”
“But their powers…”
“Have no effect on me. When I get close, I can feel their power pressing and vibrating on my skin, and moving toward them is like walking through thick syrup. It takes effort, but I always win in the end. Always.”
“How close?” Valek had been in the castle both times I had unknowingly used magic. Did Valek suspect?
“I have to be in the same room,” Valek said.
Relief washed through me. He didn’t know. At least, not yet. “Why didn’t you kill the southern magician at the festival?” I asked.
“Yelena, I’m not invincible. Fighting four men while she threw every ounce of her power at me was exhausting. Chasing her down would have been a fruitless endeavor.”
I thought about what he said. “Is being resistant to magic a form of magic?” I asked.
“No.” Valek’s face hardened.
“What about the knife?” I pointed to the long blade hanging on the wall. The crimson blood gleamed in the lantern light. In the three weeks I’d lived in Valek’s suite, it hadn’t dried.
Valek laughed. “That was the knife I used to kill the King. He was a magician. When his magic couldn’t stop me from plunging that knife into his heart, he cursed me with his dying breath. It was rather melodramatic. He willed that I should be plagued with guilt over his murder and have his blood stain my hands forever. With my peculiar immunity to magic, the curse attached to the knife instead of me.” Valek looked at the weapons wall thoughtfully. “It was a shame to lose my favorite blade, but it does make for a nice trophy.”
18
MY LUNGS BLAZED. Flushed and sweat-soaked, I lagged behind the main group of soldiers, my throat burning with every gasp. It was my fourth lap around the castle complex. One more to go.
I had hovered by the northeast barracks right after tasting the Commander’s breakfast. When a large clump of soldiers ran past, I spotted