*
A rumbling creak woke him from a light doze. Darkness surrounded him. It took him a moment to orient himself—Snake Forest—on lookout—with Onora. Check.
A harness jingled and the thud of horse hooves on the ground vibrated under him. Soon two wagon teams rolled into view. The figures sitting on the benches didn’t have a lantern, but there was enough moonlight to discern big obstacles like trees. Besides, most horses just needed to be pointed down a trail. They instinctively followed the cleared path.
As they passed his hiding spot, Janco noticed a burlap blanket covering the lumpy contents of the wagon. Intrigued, he followed the wagons as they neared the illusion then slowed.
“Where’s that damn cave?” one man asked. “Did we miss it?”
“No, it’s a little further,” his companion said.
“Just stop here,” a woman called from the second wagon. “The horses get too skittish if we get closer. Mattison will meet us.”
They unhitched the horses and fed and watered them. They appeared to be waiting for this Mattison. Too curious to stay put, Janco crept up behind the second wagon, noting the long and narrow bed. He lifted the blanket, revealing barrels. Words had been burned into the oak, but it was too dark to read them.
A bright yellow glow pierced the illusion, momentarily blinding him. Three huge men carried torches and pulled a small cart. Another set of three big brutes emerged, but they didn’t tow anything. All six men wore some type of leather harness.
The two groups merged. Janco slipped back into the forest while they were distracted.
“Anyone follow you?” one of the big brutes asked.
“You kidding? No one’s around for miles,” the wagon leader said. “How much did you get?”
“Six golds a barrel.”
“Next time ask for eight. It’s getting harder to smuggle this stuff out. Valek’s got his dogs sniffing around.”
An indignant huff sounded next to Janco. He jumped and clamped down on a cry.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he whispered to Onora.
“Assassin, remember?”
“But I’m on your side.”
She shrugged. “Habit.”
“Did you see what’s in the cart from the cave?” he asked.
“Yes. A few small barrels.”
They watched the smugglers as they hitched one wagon to the three big men, attaching the chains to their harnesses, and then they hooked up the other three with the other wagon. Odd. Why not use the horses?
“I’m going to crawl under the burlap on that second wagon,” Onora whispered. “You track the cart and see where it goes. We’ll meet back here once we learn what’s going on.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she disappeared. While the others were distracted hooking up the men and horses, the blanket rippled and the wagon creaked under the additional weight. No one but Janco noticed.
After they finished, the smugglers made arrangements for another meeting, then headed in opposite directions. The horses pulled the cart from the cave back into the forest, and the men lugged the two wagons toward the cave.
Ah. The horses either couldn’t fit inside the tunnel or were too scared to go underground. Onora’s plan had merit, but Janco still didn’t trust her. And Valek had ordered him to keep an eye on her.
Janco waited a few minutes before dashing through the illusion. A brief surge of fire ringed his head before dying down. The circle of torchlight retreated deeper into the cave. He summoned the courage to follow. Janco hoped it was a short tunnel.
After all, he hadn’t had time to eat or pee.
23
YELENA
I released the reedwither plant and spread my hands wide.
“Good. Now stand and turn around slowly,” the man behind me ordered.
Wondering why Kiki hadn’t warned me of his presence, I straightened and faced him. A tall and muscular Sandseed warrior watched me. I didn’t recognize him. He held a scimitar in his left hand and another dagger in his right. His skin was the color of shadows and he had a green-and-brown-patterned cloth wrapped around his waist. It must be for modesty because the rest of his body was bare despite the cold.
Unconcerned, Kiki grazed nearby.
“You must continue on your journey,” he said.
Not a chance. “I need to collect—”
“It is forbidden to harvest the reedwither.”
“Why?”
“It is a powerful poison.”
“I know. I may have been injected with it.”
“Not possible. You are alive.”
I stifled a sarcastic retort. No need to upset the well-armed man. “I have healing abilities. I may have stopped the poison from killing me.”
He stepped closer. “I sense no magic from you.”
All right, time to try another tactic. “I’m friends with almost all of the surviving Sandseeds, but I’ve never seen you before. Who are you?”
The Sandseed puffed out his broad chest. “I am the guardian of the reedwither plants.”
Plants. As in plural. At least there were more.
“Do not think you can steal from another patch,” he said. “I watch all.”
And that would only be possible if... “There’s a magical shield over the plants, and when it’s broken, you appear.”
“Yes.” His eyebrows pinched together, rippling his bald head.
“And you wait in the shadow world.”
“How do you know this?” he demanded.
“I’ve been to the shadow world.”
“Not possible. You are not a Sandseed Story Weaver.”
“I was the Soulfinder.”
“Was?” Confusion gripped his expression. “You cannot undo what is done.”
“I wish that was true, but someone poisoned me with reedwither and now my Soulfinding days are over. That’s why I need a sample so I can take it to my father and have him produce an antidote.”
“Who is your father?”
“Esau Liana Zaltana.” Although I had no idea how his name would help.
“I know this Esau.”
Then again... Hope rose.
“He will not be able to aid you. This plant cannot do what you claim.”
“How can you be so sure? No one has used it on a Soulfinder before.”
“True.” He tucked his weapons into the cloth around his waist. “But I know I have not been called from the shadow world to protect the plant for many years.”
I considered. Some substances remained potent for years. “Did they succeed?”
“No one has since I have been on duty. Before I died, my life threads were woven into the reedwither plant so I could protect it while in the shadow world.”
“How long ago?”
“Back when your father, Esau, was a curious young boy, visiting the plains for the first time. Esau asked so many questions, I thought our elders would send him home early.”
Sounded like my father. A mix of emotions rolled through me. If the poison wasn’t from the reedwither plant, then what had caused my magic to disappear?
The Sandseed moved closer and spread his hands. “May I?”
“May you what?”
“Read the threads of your life.”
“You’re a Story Weaver?”
“Yes.”