Night Study. Maria V. Snyder
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smell of malice sliced right through death’s foul odor. Inside the file was a single piece of paper.
“Run,” Leif yelled, just as a whoosh vibrated through the air.
The barn’s walls ignited. Flames ripped up the sides, surrounding them.
YELENA
One look at Valek’s hard expression and I braced for bad news. He didn’t disappoint. Unfortunately. “Are you certain it was Owen and the others?” I asked Valek. “It was dark and the boy is very young.” The thought of Owen in Ixia coiled like a snake in the pit of my stomach.
Onora and I had been relaxing by the campfire when Valek and Janco returned from searching for the tunnel. They’d found it, but also learned one of the teen miners had reported spotting three strangers that had appeared right out of thin air the same night his camp’s food stores had been raided.
“It’s not a hundred percent, but it makes the most sense,” Valek said, sitting next to me. He held his hands close to the fire, warming them.
“Why did Lewin see them at all?” Janco plopped down between me and Onora. “That Rika chick should be hiding them behind an illusion all the time. That’s what I’d do if I were her.”
“It’s difficult to maintain an illusion when the subject is in motion,” I explained. “The magician has to constantly adjust it to match the surroundings. It’s exhausting. While something static, like covering the mouth of the cave with an illusionary rockfall, is much easier.”
“But what keeps it going?” Onora placed the cook pot on the fire, reheating the beef stew the cook from the miner’s camp brought over for supper. “Once the magician leaves, shouldn’t the illusion dissipate?”
“In most cases, the illusion disappears,” I said. “However, some magicians can loop the magic back to the power blanket. This loop keeps the illusion intact by drawing power from the source. Booby traps work in a similar fashion, except when one is triggered, it connects to the source to fuel the trap and then disintegrates. There’s no loop.”
“Yeah, yeah, this is all very fascinating,” Janco said, “but why would Owen even be in Ixia? The Commander is angry at him for getting too greedy. His best play is to lie low in Sitia.”
“Owen claimed he has something that would make the Commander forgive him,” I said, remembering that smug, cocky tone he’d used. And now that I thought about it... “Makes sense for him to want to reach the Commander before Valek reports in. He can spin his story, skewing it in his favor.”
“Or he can just use his evil mojo and put the Commander under a spell.” Janco waggled his fingers.
That wasn’t quite how it worked, but Janco had a good point. I met Valek’s gaze. “When were they spotted?”
“Three nights ago, and they’re on foot,” he said.
If they wished to keep a low profile, they would avoid riding horses. In Ixia, only generals and top-ranking advisers rode horses. Merchants used them to pull their wagons, but everyone else walked.
“If we leave now, we can easily catch up,” I said, gesturing to Kiki and the others grazing nearby.
“Yeah, but can we stop them?” Janco rubbed his ear. A queasy expression creased his face. “Leif’s not here to make those null thingies that protect us from their magic.”
“We have Curare, darts and blowpipes. As long as they don’t suspect we’re close, we can incapacitate them,” Valek said.
“Can we find them?” Onora asked.
Janco huffed in annoyance. “Of course we can track them. That won’t be a problem. If they cover their tracks with illusions, Valek and I can sniff out their magic, and I can follow them if they don’t. No, the real problem will be if they can sense us coming.”
Everyone turned to me. I considered Owen’s magical powers. Back when Owen had coerced me into helping him search for the Ice Moon in the MD-3 mines, he had failed to locate Valek’s hiding place on the ceiling.
“Owen can’t, but I’m not certain about Rika and Tyen,” I said. “Many magicians don’t reveal all their powers. They like to keep one or two hidden from public knowledge so they have an advantage.”
“Not helping, Yelena,” Janco said.
“Owen’s been one step ahead of us the entire time,” Onora said.
“That’s what happens when he has a six-day head start,” Janco snapped.
She pressed her lips together and shot him a nasty glare. Onora wasn’t the type to state the obvious, so I sensed there was more.
“What are you thinking?” I asked her.
“They argued while stealing food and under a cloak of illusion. That’s just stupid. Owen’s many things, but he’s not stupid.”
Valek nodded in agreement. “You think he wanted the boy to see them?”
“Yes, so he can lead us into another booby trap,” she said.
Sounded like Owen. “Do we follow the bread crumbs or dash ahead and set our own trap?”
“How far ahead?” Valek asked.
“The castle?” Janco suggested.
“That’s dangerously close to the Commander,” Onora said.
“Yeah, but it’s our home territory. Nobody knows it as well as we do.” Janco thumped his chest. “And there are a gazillion soldiers there to protect the Commander.”
“Yet we’re just guessing that they’re heading to the castle. The red and black colors on their uniforms could be a diversion,” Onora said.
As they discussed options, I mulled it over. Why else would Owen be in Ixia? To hide from the Sitian authorities. Possible, but Ixia kept a close watch on its citizens, making it difficult to blend in and disappear. Owen had managed to avoid execution before; he must believe he could do it again in order to risk the journey. I knew Owen the best, so I put myself in his boots and contemplated the problem.
“Owen’s heading to the castle,” I said, stopping the discussion.
“Then we need to beat him there,” Janco said.
“They’re on foot. How long will it take them to reach the castle?” I asked him.
“On foot, it would take about ten days to get there from here.”
“With their head start, they’ll be there in seven days,” Valek said.
“And it will take us five days on horseback. Is two days enough time to prepare?” I asked, already worried about it.
“It should be plenty of time. Plus if they’re planting booby traps, using magic to cover their tracks and avoiding detection, it’ll take them longer than seven days.” Valek lifted the pot’s lid and stirred the stew with a spoon.
A puff of steamy goodness wafted up. My stomach grumbled in response. It was nice to have an appetite for a change, but I wondered how long it would last before another bout of queasiness swelled. The nausea came and went, but was never bad enough to make me vomit. Thank fate.
Valek ladled stew into the bowls and passed them around the fire. Every day it was harder to ignore my sensitive stomach. By now, I was four weeks late. Hard to pin the delay on stress when I’d just spent most of the past two days resting. And what would I feel if it was confirmed? I shied away from those thoughts. Too scary.
Instead, I decided to wait until we reached the castle to indulge in any more speculation. Once there, I’d visit the medic and seek advice. Lots of advice.
“When do we leave?” But