Night Study (Soulfinders, #2)(93)

“Keeping her safe is almost impossible, and Valek knows it, Ari. Now, let me handle this.” Janco crouched down to the girl’s eye level. “Can you show me where you last saw her?”

She nodded and turned. They followed her through the busy streets of the Citadel and into the quieter residence quarters. She headed southwest and zigzagged through a maze of alleys and streets. No wonder she’d lost the trail. This place was a tracker’s worst nightmare. Well, an average tracker. Janco was far from average.

The girl stopped at an intersection. “I turned this corner and...poof, they were gone.”

He glanced around. From this point, there were four narrow alleys that branched off in different directions. He checked each one for any signs of Yelena—a peppermint or dart or bit of milk oat she might have dropped. No luck. Yelena probably assumed they were close behind her. Janco considered the timing and thought they should be nearing the final destination. He checked each narrow path. At the end of the third one, he found a chewed toothpick, as if someone had waited there.

“How many relays did they have?” he asked the girl.

“I counted seven before I lost her.”

This one might be the last relay. From this point there were two alleys. Unable to find anything to distinguish one from the other, Janco picked one and closed his eyes. He inhaled, drawing the air slowly through his nose. Nothing but garbage and the typical city stink. He repeated the action in the other road. Same odors, but this time he also detected a faint whiff of lavender.

“This way,” he said, hurrying down the tight throughway. It ended in a round courtyard with five different exits.

An uneasy, crawly sensation tickled his skin. Magic. Faint magic. Janco concentrated, seeking that unsettling...substance. Once again he closed his eyes and moved toward the nebulousness that repelled him. The creepy crawlies increased when he faced south.

He led Ari and the girl down an uneven sidewalk. Weeds grew between the cracks and glass crunched under his boots. The broken windows had been boarded over and the houses appeared to have been abandoned and left to squatters.

“I don’t think you’ll find this area listed in the guide book,” Ari said.

“It’s a little-known spot that should remain little-known,” Janco agreed. Plus it hurt his scar. The pain increased, then lessened after he walked past a run-down shack. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What’s wrong?” Ari asked.

“The complete and utter lack of creativity. That shack is an illusion.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Ari yanked his scimitar and charged toward it.

Janco stepped in front of him. “Hold on. We don’t know what’s on the other side. And it might trigger an alarm.” He paused as he realized he was being the sensible one. How about that? There was a first time for everything. Janco herded them back to the courtyard and out of sight. “Spider Girl, go fetch Fisk and as many of his minions as you can. Pronto!”

She flipped him the finger, but scurried away.

“Now what?” Ari asked.

“The illusion is hiding another building, so we case the joint. See if there are any other entrances. These houses are all jumbled together. They have to be connected.”

“All right. I’ll loop around back and you take the roof.”

Janco eyed the sagging rooftops—some peaked, others flat. “If you hear a tremendous crash, that would be me falling through the shingles.”

Ari didn’t bother to reply. He slipped around the row of houses without making a sound. Janco sighed and studied the closest dwelling. The drainpipe looked sketchy, and the wooden siding bowed outward as if the house had been stuffed full. The corner of the building might be okay to climb up, as long as the nails hadn’t rusted through.

A skittery feeling brushed his back. Janco spun around, searching for the cause. The courtyard was empty. He scanned the windows, but no one watched him. However, he couldn’t shake the certainty that someone or something had a keen interest in him. Ignoring the strangeness, he scaled the two-story structure and reached the roof.

Keeping low and testing each step before he put his full weight on it, he headed toward the shack. A number of squeals, squeaks and groans followed his progress. He wondered if any of the residents would investigate the noises or if they’d think it’d be safer to remain indoors. In this neighborhood, he guessed they’d stay inside.

As he drew closer, the quality of the roofs changed. The timber beneath his boots no longer dipped with his weight. The outer layer still resembled a patchwork, but the foundation was strong. His scar tweaked with pain just as he reached a smooth, flat roof with two skylights—quite a surprise.

Janco tiptoed closer, then laid flat on his stomach to peek inside. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darker interior. He clamped down on a shout. Yelena lay on a couch below. She appeared to be sleeping, or maybe paralyzed by Curare. Janco fervently hoped it was one of those two, and that she wasn’t dead. Before he could move, four men arrived. They carried a wooden crate with them, and then they lifted Yelena and packed her inside it, as if she were a piece of furniture!

He stared in shock as they wheeled the box from the room.

Must. Follow. Box.

*

Janco had no memory of his trip back to the courtyard.

“Slow down, you’re not making any sense,” Ari said. “What’s this about a box?”