Night Study (Soulfinders #2)(92)

“I don’t believe the Commander would let a magician into Ixia,” Zohav said.

Valek twisted in his seat. “That’s three. Call me a liar one more time, and you’ll be turned into cargo. I also expect an apology when you finally understand.”

Zohav stared at him, not backing down an inch. Almost all of her fear of him had been transformed into anger. In the sunlight, the blue in her eyes sparkled like sapphires. He suspected if he flattened his gaze into his killer’s demeanor, she’d become frightened once more. But he’d rather have her angry than scared. He faced forward, and their conversation became limited to directions to their town.

They stopped briefly at noon for a quick dinner. The Colonel had provided full travel rations for the three of them.

Zethan couldn’t contain his curiosity and asked, “What other types of magicians are there?”

Valek explained about the Master Magicians and the various magical abilities of the others. “Some people have what’s called a One-Trick, which is one ability that is more instinctive than learned. They don’t have to worry about flaming out or being influenced by other, more powerful magicians.”

“Flaming out? Should we be worried?” Zethan asked.

“No. You’re in control of your powers, and you have Nell to thank for that. Otherwise, you would have grabbed more and more power until it overwhelmed you. By that point, the Master Magicians in Sitia would have sensed your presence and dispatched an...assassin to end your life before you flamed out. When a flameout happens, you not only kill yourself, but you ruin the power blanket for the other magicians.”

Zethan rocked back on his heels. “Wow.”

“You know an awful lot about magic and magicians. Is that so you can counter them?” Zohav asked.

“Knowing your enemy is always important, but I learned most of this from my heart mate, who has magic.”

Zohav gaped at him. “You have a heart mate?”

“Who has magic, Zo. Magic! He’s not going to kill us or she’ll get mad at him. Right?”

“She would indeed.”

“What about those twenty-three others you assassinated? Does she know about them?” Zohav asked.

“Yes. In fact, she has neutralized a number of magicians, as well. Just because a person has magic doesn’t mean they’re good people. Think about what Jibben did using your magic. Can you imagine what he’d do with his own?”

Their queasy expressions said it all. Lecture over, Valek wrapped the remaining cheese, packed it away and mounted Onyx.

Before Zohav stepped up, she said in a low voice, “I’m glad you killed Jibben.”

“Me, too. Bastard got what he deserved.” Zethan slashed a finger along his neck.

Valek didn’t bother to correct them, and it was a quiet ride to—“Icefaren? You live in Icefaren?” he asked.

“I told you it was near the northern ice sheet,” Zethan said. “Not many towns up here.”

True. However, Valek never considered that they lived in his hometown. In his mind, only two people lived there—his parents, and no one else. According to the reports from his agents, his parents still resided in Icefaren.

Zethan spurred Smoke next to Valek. “I’ll take point. If that’s okay?” The teen had become comfortable riding a horse pretty quick.

“If you’re about to fall off the horse, grab his mane and not the saddle,” Valek instructed. “You won’t hurt him, and a saddle can move with your weight.”

“Mane, not saddle. Got it.” Zethan pulled ahead.

Onyx stayed right behind Smoke, and Valek kept his attention on the boy. Falling off a horse at speed could be deadly, but he was glad to see Zethan had a natural grace and good balance.

When the horses stopped at a gate, Zethan jumped off Smoke and cleared the fence in one long stride. Zohav made an ah sound, slid from the saddle and took off after her brother. They raced to the house.

It was only then that Valek realized where they were. He stared at the familiar house as ice replaced the blood in his veins. His stomach cramped as visions of his murdered brothers flashed in his memory. With an extreme effort, he reigned in his emotions. Of course his parents had moved. His father was sixty-three by now and must be retired, and his mother was sixty. The five-bedroom house and adjacent tannery was too big for the two of them.

A door banged. Valek grabbed the hilt of his sword and turned. Two men stepped from the tannery. The older man stopped and stared at Valek as if he’d seen a ghost. Valek’s heart pushed against his ribs and lungs as if it was a bubble about to burst. The pressure made it impossible for Valek to draw a breath.

The young man glanced between them. “Dad, what’s wrong? Who is he?”





24


JANCO


“What do you mean, you lost her?” Ari demanded of one of Fisk’s Helper’s Guild members.

Janco put a hand on his partner’s meaty arm. “Easy, big guy. You’re scaring her.” The poor thing looked to be about eight years old and fifty pounds. He’d seen sand spiders bigger than her.

“I don’t care. We shouldn’t have let a bunch of kids keep track of Yelena.”

“I doubt we could have done any better. That relay system was genius!”

Ari glowered. “Valek charged us to keep her safe. If she—”