I righted an office chair and sat. Hard to believe they managed to empty the place in twelve hours. Perhaps they had a hidden storeroom and after all the commotion died down, they’d return for the rest of their stock. Maybe in a basement?
While the officers cataloged the equipment and inventoried the storage rooms’ boxes, I searched for a hidden door. I ran my fingers along the walls in case an entrance had been concealed by a magical illusion. Soon my hands turned black with grime. After encountering a couple of dead ends, I found a small stairwell. At first, it appeared to go to only the second floor. However, an invisible metal seam marked the floor underneath the steps. Feeling my way, I discovered a square metal panel.
I triggered my switchblade and pried the edge of the panel up, revealing a hole of darkness. Another illusion? Digging in my pack, I pulled out my lantorch and lit the filament, hoping I had enough oil to last awhile.
The light reflected off a metal ladder descending into the darkness. I waited, listening for any sounds from below. All remained quiet. I climbed down. When I reached the floor, I turned, shining the light around the space.
Bingo! Barrels lined the floor along with piles of boxes. Crates had been hastily stacked against the right wall. But no casks. On the far side was an opening into another room. I entered and spotted more barrels. The Commander’s white brandy must sell well in Sitia.
A faint click sounded just as I was about to turn around to report my find to the captain. I hurried to the ladder, but the hatch above had been closed.
“I told him it wouldn’t work,” Ben said.
I spun. What I’d thought was a stack of crates was actually an illusion. Ben, another man, a woman and two goons stood in its place. The lady must be Rika, the magician who created the illusion. They had their weapons drawn, but appeared relaxed. Probably because they’d erected a null shield.
“Tell who?” I asked in a calm voice, although my heart recognized the danger and urged me to bolt.
Ben huffed in amusement. “You don’t remember and yet you found us anyway. Amazing.”
I bowed. “Thank you.”
“How did you find us?”
“I didn’t think you could clear out the entire factory in—”
“Not that. How did you know we were in Lapeer?”
No reason to lie. “A lucky guess.”
“She’s lying,” one of the men said. “Why didn’t you go west with your brother and the others?”
To admit to being locked in protective custody hurt too much. Instead, I said, “Your clues were too obvious. In fact, they all looped north and have surrounded the factory. You might as well surrender now.”
Alarmed, Ben asked, “Drey, you said they headed west.”
“They did,” Drey the goon said. “She’s bluffing.”
Better than being called a liar. Progress. I acted unconcerned, but I inched toward the ladder. “Believe what you want.”
“It doesn’t matter. Once the town watch leaves the factory, Rika can hide us with her magic,” Ben said.
Uh-oh. Even if Captain Fleming realized I’d disappeared, he couldn’t see through a magical illusion. I slid into a fighting stance, keeping a firm grip on my switchblade.
“In the meantime,” Ben said, “you’re here and so am I. And do you know who’s not here?”
“Your mother?”
“Cute. The Boss isn’t here to save your life this time.” Ben tightened his grip on his sword.
The Boss! Memories of being held down with Ben ready to plunge his knife into my stomach surged. But the Boss’s identity remained elusive.
Rika touched his arm. “There’s a good reason why he doesn’t want her dead.”
Ben rounded on her. “What else can we do? She won’t stay away.”
I moved closer to the ladder.
“Incapacitate her,” Rika suggested. “Let the Boss decide.”
Time for me to leave. I tossed my lantorch at them, grabbed the rungs and climbed.
“Tyen,” Ben said.
Oh no. Tyen’s magic could move large objects, including me. Except a cold dart pricked my neck. I yanked it from my skin, but it was too late.
“That doesn’t work on her. Use one of the barrels.”
As the room spun, I knew I was in big trouble. My foot slipped off the ladder and I slid back to the ground. Darkness pressed along the edges of my vision. Not Curare. A sleeping potion? Poison? A heavy object slammed into me, knocking me to the ground, sending me into oblivion.
*
I woke to the rumbling vibrations of wagon wheels over cobblestones. My head ached, pain ringed my wrists and ankles, and dry cotton filled my mouth. It didn’t take long for me to learn the full extent of my predicament. Lying flat on my back in a wagon, I stared at a canvas covering that hung inches from my nose. No light shone through the fabric. Nighttime.
Gagged and tied spread-eagle to the sides of the wagon, I’d been effectively neutralized. Had they figured out the sleeping potion worked or did they assume the barrel had knocked me unconscious? Did it matter? Since I’d been bluffing people based on my reputation alone...yes, it did matter. Very much.
The only thing that kept me from panicking was the hope that Captain Fleming realized I was missing. Also Ben might be taking me to the same location as the other shipments where Janco and Onora should be. A thin hope, but better than nothing.
I marked time by the noise from the wheels. The jarring shake of cobblestones stopped and the crunch of gravel signaled we’d left the main streets of a town. Then the smooth, quiet hum of either a dirt or grass path meant we were in the countryside between towns. Keeping track of the cycles of noise, I’d counted three towns when we slowed after reaching the outskirts of the third town.
We turned left and lurched over uneven ground before hinges squeaked and what sounded like doors clicked shut. Lantern light cast shadows on the canvas covering. Voices talked, but not close enough for me to understand the words. The familiar jingle of a harness indicated someone worked at unhitching the team of horses. This stop could be our final destination. My stomach skittered. Bad choice of words.
The distant voices grew louder as the speakers moved toward my position. Ben and another man argued. The Boss? Something about his superior tone seemed familiar.
“...doesn’t matter now. He knows what you’re up to,” Ben said. “He has plenty of inventory. Cut your losses and run.”
“I’d planned to renegotiate, but now you’ve screwed that up, too.”
“What else was I supposed to do?”
“Disappear like I ordered after I rescued you from Wirral,” the Boss said.
“I endured three years of hell in that prison,” Ben said. “And she put me there. She deserves to die.”
“We’ve discussed this. If she dies, then the Master Magicians, the Sitian Council and Valek will all be breathing down our necks. Even if we’re arrested, Valek will still find us and kill us. No. I have a better idea.”
A better idea? I didn’t like the sound of that. The wagon tilted as someone climbed onto it. The canvas was pulled away and there stood— “Hello, Yelena. Remember me?”