“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
Janco scrunched up his face as if in pain. “The Commander ordered you to shut Owen’s entire operation down. It makes sense he ordered his shiny new assassin to do the same thing. It’d be dead easy for Onora to make it appear as if The Mosquito was the culprit. And you already know all this, don’t you?”
Valek kept his expression neutral, but he was impressed. “I thought Ari was supposed to be the smart one.”
“Yeah, well, he isn’t here, so I gotta do all the thinking. And I’m not happy about, either. It makes my head hurt.”
*
Valek and Janco spent the rest of the day hunting for the familiar sticky feel of magic in the foothills. They returned late and left early the next morning to resume the search. Another two full days passed before Janco stopped Beach Bunny.
He pressed his hand to his right ear. “Son of a snow cat!”
“You’re not thinking again, are you?” Valek drew next to Janco, halting Onyx.
“Not funny. It’s gotta be a superstrong illusion.”
Valek dismounted. “Which direction?”
Janco pointed to the right. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The bare branches of the trees dipped and swayed in a cold northern breeze that smelled of snow, despite it being a couple weeks into the warming season. High, thin clouds filtered the sunlight.
Valek pulled his sword. Janco slid off Beach Bunny and yanked his weapon from its sheath. The rattle and tumble of dried leaves filled the air. This patch of forest grew in a dip in the rolling terrain near the base of the Soul Mountains. To the east, the jagged snowcapped peaks stretched high, like a row of gigantic corn plants reaching for the sun.
The mountain range earned its name from old legends. Folklore claimed the peaks snagged souls as they ascended toward the sky. These trapped souls haunted the frozen heights and sucked the life from anyone who dared climb past the tree line. Valek believed it to be just a story to explain why no one who tried to reach the summit ever returned. The lack of breathable air was the more likely explanation. Although some also asserted that mysterious people who supposedly lived on the other side of the mountains patrolled the upper regions to prevent anyone from crossing into their homeland, keeping their existence a secret.
Pure nonsense. Valek returned his attention to the task at hand. He hadn’t expected Owen’s tunnel to be this high in the foothills, but the isolated location was ideal.
Janco aimed for an ordinary group of trees and hissed in pain as he disappeared from sight. Increasing his pace, Valek hurried after him and encountered magic. The invisible force pressed against his skin. Pushing through felt like swimming in mud. He found Janco rubbing his temple on the other side. Valek scanned the area for possible threats. Nothing so far.
A mass of oversize boulders was piled next to a hill. At first glance, it resembled a natural rock slide from the mountains, but upon closer inspection the heap was too neatly stacked. It must be blocking the tunnel.
“Looks like someone beat us to it,” Valek said.
“No.” Janco’s voice strained with effort. “Move closer.”
He did. The air thickened. Another illusion. “Clever.” It would stop the smugglers from using it, but it kept the tunnel open in case Owen needed it again in the future.
“Could be a trap.”
“Indeed.” Valek tightened his grip on his sword and drew a knife with his free hand. “I’m just going to confirm there’s a tunnel behind it.”
Janco straightened. “Then I’ll come confirming with you, just in case.”
The pressure on his body increased with each step. Janco paled when they reached the authentic-looking rocks. Even knowing it wasn’t real, Valek braced for impact as he strode right into the pile. He muscled through the magic.
No one ambushed them. The tunnel’s entrance was empty. Valek crept inside a few feet and listened for any noises that would indicate people were farther inside. No sounds bubbled up from the solid darkness.
Wagon wheel ruts warped the ground just past the opening. Janco drew in a deep breath. Relief smoothed his features and he crouched down to inspect the marks, running his fingers along the smooth grooves.
“How old?” Valek asked.
“Eight to ten days.”
“Probably the last smugglers before Rika set the illusion.”
“Now what?”
“Return to camp and discuss the next step.”
“How about we inform the Sitian authorities and let them deal with it? After all, they have all those magicians,” Janco suggested.
“That’s one option.”
They mounted their horses and headed back to camp. It was late afternoon by the time they arrived. Valek slowed Onyx. A number of people milled about the camp. More than he’d expected. Concern for Yelena pulsed in his chest until he recognized Ivon.
“Report,” he ordered his lieutenant.