A Stormdancer influenced the weather and not water, so Valek doubted having one on board would make a difference in an attempt to cross the Rattles. One thing Valek did know—the Storm Thieves must have a grander scheme than stealing in mind. Once he figured that out, they’d be easy to find.
Annika arrived with two steaming containers of seafood chowder for them. Valek’s stomach lurched in sudden hunger as the tangy, fishy aroma reached him. She served Valek first, but she gave Endre a sweet dimpled smile with his bowl. Ah. They’d been working together too long. In the past, he’d break them up and assign one to the other side of Ixia. But as Hedda had said, he’d changed. Valek no longer believed love or romance negatively affected an agent’s ability to do his or her duty. In fact, he thought it made them a stronger team.
Pah, you’ve gone soft, old man, Janco’s voice sounded in his head. He ignored it. Instead he asked Annika about the boats that had disappeared this year.
“There’s always a bunch that wreck or sink or catch fire,” she said. “Mostly those have a few survivors, but there were two that sailed from Gandrel and never came back. The Starfish and the Sea Serpent.”
“Do you know who captained the boats and worked on them?”
“No, sir, but the Port Master will have all that information.”
“Can you get the names for me without anyone knowing?”
She hesitated, then glanced at Endre. “Do you have any sleeping juice left?”
“Yep.”
“Then that would be a yes, sir,” she said to Valek. “The Port Master is a frequent customer.”
“What about the other towns?” Endre asked him. “There have to be other boats that disappeared.”
“The Stormers are from Gandrel.”
“How do you know?” Annika asked.
“You tell me,” he said. “What’s changed?”
She stared at the map in concentration. A section of her long brown hair fell in front of her face, and she tucked it behind her ear with an impatient tug. Her darker skin tone reminded him of Yelena.
Annika tapped on the map with her finger. “Stealing weapons from a security office is a dangerous hit.” She met Valek’s gaze. Long eyelashes framed lovely brown eyes. “There are a number of offices along the coast, but they picked Gandrel’s because they’re very familiar with the town. There’s no need to worry about getting lost while a storm rages when you know every street, and the chances of encountering an officer are smaller when you know their patrol patterns.”
Valek grinned. “Exactly.”
After Endre finished his chowder, he left to report to work. Valek asked Annika about the local gossip. “Anyone mention my name?”
“A few noticed you arriving in town, but they all assumed you’re here to help with the nets.”
Good. “How about speculation over these Stormers?”
“Lots of that, from the ridiculous—ghosts living in the clouds—to the mundane—local kids taking advantage of the weather. A couple folks think the security officers are making a big deal for nothing. So far, I haven’t heard anything of value.”
Annika returned to her job at the inn. Valek waited thirty minutes before finding a spot at the bar of the inn’s common room. He ordered an ale and listened to the various conversations around him.
“...best net caught on the blasted rocks and shredded like wet paper.”
“I wanted to ring his bloody neck...”
“I’d bet Nichel’s boy is behind all this trouble. Damn kid never did listen.”
“...fat cats at the garrison. You’d think they’d help us with these bastards.”
When Valek finished his ale, he inquired about work, and one of the boat captains said he needed an extra pair of hands. Then he climbed the stairs to his room, changed into his sneak suit and slipped out the window. He spent the next three hours reading reports. A couple of comments from the searches snagged his attention, and he wrote a list of buildings and shipyards to recheck. Overall, there wasn’t any information that challenged his theory.
Good. The sooner he could solve this and reunite with Yelena, the better.
*
Over the next couple days, Valek helped repair nets. His nimble fingers and skill at tying knots earned him a favorable reputation. The fishermen soon relaxed and Valek listened to their gossip. Eventually he steered the conversation to the lost ships.
“Everyone knows the risks you take when you step on that boat.” Pug looped new twine around a tear. His fingernails were black and he smelled like brine. “You expect a few losses, but it’s a heartbreaker regardless.”
“Yeah,” Joey agreed. He was one of the oldest men on the crew. “And sometimes you can guess who’s not coming back. I told Nell not to take on such a young, inexperienced crew, but she wouldn’t listen. What you get in energy and stamina, you lose in experience and plain old good sense.”