Page 93 of The Study of Poisons
The magician replied with more formal words, but Valek ceased to listen. Instead, he formulated a plan of attack if she used her magic. He signaled his agents disguised as officials to be ready to subdue the other four Sitians while he stopped the leader. Unless the Sitians were all magicians, then all bets were off.
Valek considered. Knowing the Commander’s views on magic, would the Sitians risk so many of them? Even in Sitia, magicians were rare and considered a valuable resource. If he had to guess, the master magician was probably the only person with power.
Despite his misgivings, everyone behaved, and the official greeting ceremony finished. The southerners were led to their quarters to rest and get ready for the feast. Valek would have to warn Kenda. Their agents would be no match for a master magician. And this situation was exactly the reason Valek had championed for the Commander to have a magician on his staff.
Valek stopped Yelena before she could join the others leaving the war room. They needed to warn the Commander.
“Okay, Valek, let’s hear it. Some dire warning, I presume?” the Commander asked, sighing.
“The Sitian leader is a master magician,” Valek said. He was getting tired of being sighed at like he was some drama king, making a big deal out of everything.
“That’s to be expected. How else could they know we’re sincere about creating a trade treaty? We could have ambushed them instead. It’s a logical move.” The Commander moved to leave.
“She doesn’t trouble you?” Valek asked. “She’s tried to kill Yelena.”
The Commander looked at her. “It would be unwise to kill my food taster. Such an act could be misinterpreted as an assassination attempt and halt negotiations. Yelena is safe…for now.” He shrugged, unconcerned, and left the war room.
Valek stared after the Commander. Or rather his body. Ambrose was no longer there. Or no longer in control. “Damn.”
“Now what?” Yelena asked.
Frustrated, he kicked one of the chairs. “I anticipated a magician with the southern delegation, but nother.” This complicated everything. “I’ll leave the power twins assigned to you while she’s here. Although, if she’s determined to get you, there’s nothing they or I can do. I lucked out with Mogkan because I was just around the corner when I felt his power surge. Let’s hope she behaves while she’s a guest in our land.”
Valek pushed the chair back in place with a bang. “At least I know where all the magicians are. Mogkan was the one I felt during the generals’ brandy meeting. And the southern master is now in the castle. Unless any more decide to show up, we should be safe.”
“What about Captain Star?” she asked.
“Star’s a charlatan. Her claims of being a magician are just a tactic for scaring her informers, so they don’t double-cross her.” Valek sighed. “Generals, Sitians, and feasts increase my workload. Which reminds me, you need to stay for the entire feast tonight. A tiresome chore, but at least the food should be good. I’ve heard Rand wanted to use the Criollo for a new dessert, but the Commander refused his request. Another puzzle, since Brazell has been sending the stuff by the wagonload and has promised to ship the dessert to all the other generals. They were clamoring after it like it was gold.”
He needed to find the source of that Criollo and shut it down before Brazell could influence everyone. Which reminded him. “Any unusual symptoms, feelings, or appetites since you stopped eating the Criollo?”
“A mild craving,” she said. “But nothing like an addiction. I find myself thinking about it from time to time, wishing for a piece.”
Valek frowned. “It might be too soon. The Criollo could still be in your bloodstream. You’ll inform me if something happens?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll see you tonight.” Valek hurried to Kenda’s office to warn her of what their agents needed to guard against—if they could. Then he rushed to make the final preparations for the feast.
* * *
Decked out for the feast,the dining room blazed with light. Gold and crimson-colored ribbons looped from the ceiling. His corps had hung them while they checked the ceiling for spiders. The twelve-piece band’s instruments had also been inspected for weapons and darts. Valek imagined a trumpet player with good aim would make an effective assassin. The band played boring music in the corner.
His agents, dressed in all black, stood between the seams of the heavy black curtains that covered the walls. Even with the light, they blended in with the fabric. Red curtains alternated with the black, creating stripes.
Valek sat at the head table with the Commander and the Sitians. Their table was set on top of a dais for several reasons. The extra height gave Valek a better view of the room, which had round tables filled with high-ranking officers, advisers, and more of his corps. He also ensured that the black curtains behind them were hung two feet from the wall so if the Commander needed to evacuate, there was not only a gap for him to run, but he’d be hidden from view. The dais also hid Yelena from everyone on the main floor. She perched on a low stool right behind Valek.
Ari and Janco had been assigned seats near the door in case anyone tried to attack during the feast. Their fighting skills had drastically improved since they’d been training with Maren and Valek, making them qualified to guard the entrance. They also had an open path to the dais in case Yelena needed them.
Valek scanned the room for trouble as he enjoyed his meal. Rand had exceeded expectations—the roasted meat melted in his mouth. The best part, neither he, nor Yelena, detected anything foreign in the food.
When the meal was finished, half the lanterns were extinguished. Valek leaned forward and grasped the hilt of his sword. He noted that his agents by the curtains also prepared for action. The next event ran the highest risk for Star’s interference.
The band increased their tempo and volume until a pulsing beat filled the room, signaling the entrance of the troupe of fire dancers the Commander had hired to perform for the Sitians despite Valek’s objections.
Carrying blazing staffs of wood, they raced into the cleared area in the middle of the room. At least they didn’t rush to ignite the curtains. Well, not yet. Valek watched closely as they performed a complex dance routine. They whirled and somersaulted and flipped while twirling their flaming staffs. An impressive display of coordination, timing, and athleticism.
He remembered Yelena’s comment about him becoming a fire dancer. Leaning back, he said, “I don’t think I would have made it past the audition, Yelena. I probably would have set my hair on fire by this point.”
