Page 40 of The Study of Poisons
“But I thought—”
“Not now. I’ll explain later. Right now, I want you to catch up with Rand and his friends. Pretend nothing has happened. I doubt she’ll try again tonight.” He escorted her through the shadows and kept an eye out for his corps, the magician, and Rand.
Rand was easy to find. The tall cook had returned to the acrobatics tent and was yelling Yelena’s name. By the way he staggered, the man was probably drunk. Or feeling guilty? Hmmm, he’d have to investigate the possibility Rand had set her up.
She moved toward her friend. The torchlight illuminated the black strap around her throat.
“Yelena, wait,” Valek said, gesturing her closer. He reached for the garrote, but she stepped back. Ah. Even after he’d saved her life, she still didn’t trust him. Yet, she braced and waited. Progress. Valek tried again and pulled the strap from her neck and handed it to her, showing her what had almost killed her.
She shivered and flung it to the ground before joining Rand. Valek picked it up. Lavender scented the leather. The weapon might come in handy someday. Perhaps he’d wrap it around the southern magician’s neck. One could hope.
Hildred and Inrick appeared next to him.
“Where have you been?” he demanded.
“We couldn’t get to you,” Hildred said.
“Did you get lost?”
“No. We encountered some type of invisible barrier.”
The magic spiderweb he’d broken through. Valek should have known.
“I know it sounds crazy,” Inrick said. “But eventually the barrier disappeared, and we rushed in to find the bodies and no sign of you or Yelena. What happened?”
Valek would explain later. “Where are the others?”
“Back with the bodies just in case you returned.”
“Go tell them you found us,” he said to Inrick. “Then fetch a clean-up crew. Take the two still breathing to the infirmary. As soon as they’re conscious, interrogate them.”
“Yes, sir.” Inrick dashed off.
“And me?” Hildred asked.
“You’re with me. We’re staying with Yelena until she’s safe inside my suite.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
The bruiseson Valek’s jaw ached and all he desired was a long hot soak followed by collapsing into his bed. Instead, he took a quick bath, changed into a clean uniform, and reported to the Commander for their nightly meeting—a tradition that had started soon after the takeover. The only time they didn’t meet was when either of them was out of town, or when Valek was working undercover.
Resisting the temptation to check on Yelena, Valek knocked on the Commander’s door. It was well after midnight and Ambrose may have gone to bed. In which case, he wouldn’t answer. But the door swung open. The Commander eyed Valek’s face and then stepped back, allowing him in.
His suite was a mirror image of Valek’s with the same L-shaped living area, same number of rooms on two floors. Except Ambrose’s place was pristine. Not a book out of place. No clutter. And no personality. Not that Valek was brave enough to point that out.
“Sit,” the Commander gestured to the couches. Two of them faced each other with a low table between them.
A tumbler, half full of an amber liquid, and a report rested on the table. Valek sank into the cushions while Ambrose poured him a drink. He handed the glass to Valek before settling opposite him. The strong scent of peach brandy stung his nose. Valek refrained from downing the alcohol in one gulp.
“The fire festival is already causing trouble,” Ambrose said, jabbing a finger at the report. “Merchants fighting over their tent locations, entertainers demanding more money, and crime rates doubling, why do I fund this…this…unnecessary and expensive frivolity every year?”
This argument was as old as the festival. And Valek knew this was just the opening salvo and not a legitimate question. He sipped his drink.
“And if those bruises are any indication, I’m sure you’re about to report more trouble. Who came after our food taster this time? Brazell? Star?”
“Neither fish took our bait.”
