Night Study (28 page)

Once again Valek consulted the map. Where was the closest steer farm to the coast? He located one about three miles south of Gandrel and approximately a half mile inland. Gotcha!

When Annika returned and Endre woke up for his night shift, Valek ran his theory by them, seeking flaws in his logic.

“Those cliff coves aren’t big enough for livestock and crops,” Endre said.

“Are you sure there aren’t any missing steers listed in the reports?” Annika asked.

“I checked all the information twice,” Valek said. “But I’ll read through the ones in the security office again tonight, and tomorrow I’ll see what the locals have to say about the islands.”

“You think they’ll strike tomorrow night?” Endre asked him.

“If not tomorrow, then during the next storm. The Stormers need to have all their supplies before the fishing season starts in twelve days. We need to be in position regardless.”

Valek spent another late night in the security office’s conference room. With his theory in mind, he scanned the incident reports looking for anything that would dispute his logic. Finding nothing, he returned to the inn for a few hours’ sleep before reporting to the dock to join the repair crew.

The waves no longer lined up like rolling pins. Instead, they titled to the right.

“The worst part of the storm’s gonna miss us,” Joey said.

“Heading north, right?” Valek asked, tying a knot. Disappointment slowed his movements. More time spent away from Yelena.

“Yup. But the one right behind it might blow over us.”

Valek paused. “Two close together? Is that usual?”

Joey cracked his knuckles. “Yup. They’re called twins. We get them from time to time. They either follow the same path, hitting the same place one right after the other—those we call identical—or they diverge and go separate ways.”

“Let me guess, those are called fraternal.”

“You catch on quick.”

Pug snorted. “Nothing quick about that, old man. Let’s see if he can guess what we call them when they hit the coast at the same time?”

“Conjoined?” Valek guessed.

“Nope. We call them double trouble, and you hope that your boat don’t sink and your house don’t blow away during one of those nasty buggers.” Pug shuddered. “Good thing they’re rare.”

“I’ve seen two in my lifetime,” Joey said. “That’s more than enough.”

“Can you tell where the second twin will strike?” Valek asked Joey.

“Not yet.”

Valek contained his impatience. He listened to their banter, their mild teasing and fish tales.

“...kid sunk like a stone, I had to fish him out with a net.”

“...caught them hiding under the sails, lazy buggers.”

“I spotted the wreckage in the water and I thought Smelly drowned, but we found ’im on Hook Island, sunnin’ hisself on the beach. He was pissed we got to ’im so fast. Old Smelly thought he’d get a vacation.” Joey coughed a chuckle.

“Could he have lived on the island?” Valek asked.

“For a couple days, sure, but he’d run through the food right quick. Nothing grows on them except berries, and you have to be real quick to catch one of them seabirds.”

“Do ships wreck on those islands often?”

“Sometimes in a storm, but the fleet avoids them in bad weather. We’ll check ’em when a ship’s been reported missing, but it’s rare we find anyone. Smelly’s an exception.”

“Yeah, he’s an exceptional stinker. The man eats nothing but raw fish,” Pug said.

Valek kept a comment about Pug’s briny odor to himself. “Do you check them all?”

“Nah. Just the ones in the fishing grounds,” Joey said.

“Does anyone use those islands?”

“Are you planning on building a vacation home?” Pug laughed. “If so, I’ve a deed I can sell you for ten golds.”

Valek shrugged, playing down his interest. “Just making conversation.”

“Ignore Pug,” Joey said. “Those islands are only good for a rest or when you have to make repairs. A few have fresh water, but no one stays for long. Even a mild hot-season storm can swamp ’em and you’re swimming.”

“Or clinging to the treetops. Remember we found Fawlon tied to a branch?” Pug asked.

“Oh, yeah. Smart fellow, Fawlon. Too bad he died of thirst.”

As they traded stories of other poor fellows, Valek mulled over the information. It seemed the Storm Thieves could live on an island as long as they had a magician to keep their settlement from being swamped. A Stormdancer would have to be back in Sitia by the heating season or the dancer would be missed. Was it another magician from Sitia or someone new? Joey said the crew of the
Starfish
was young.

What if one of those teens developed magic? Magic wasn’t tolerated in Ixia, so the person had one of two options: escape to Sitia, or hide his or her power from everyone. But then there was the chance the person would grab too much magic and flame out. According to Irys, only those with amazing self-control could prevent that without any training.

If nothing happened during the storms, Valek planned to investigate all the crew members. It was a tiresome, tedious chore, but it might uncover a clue to the Storm Thieves’ whereabouts.

After the fishermen rolled up the repaired nets, Joey pointed a crooked brown-spotted finger out to sea. “The first storm’s headin’ for the cliffs. But it looks like his twin is turnin’ toward us. It’ll hit tomorrow night, but I’ll know better in the mornin’.” He patted Valek on the shoulder and lowered his voice. “You catch those Stormers, boy. They’re a nuisance.” Then he limped across the street to the tavern.

So much for being subtle. Janco’s incredulous voice sounded in his head.
An old man saw right through your cover? You’re slipping, boss.
Good thing Janco was in Sitia with Yelena.

Valek stopped at his room to grab his pack before returning to the apartment. When Endre woke and Annika arrived, he reviewed his plan with them.

“I’m going north to keep an eye on the storm just in case. I want you both to watch the steer farm tonight. Get familiar with the layout of the barn, fields and the route to the coast. It’d be easier without a storm raging.”

“Yes, sir,” they said.

Endre rubbed his stomach. “If we want to keep our covers, we need an excuse for leaving work early.”

“Not...” Annika covered her mouth with her hand.

“I’m not happy about it, either,” he said.

“If it’s any consolation,” Valek said, “you only need three drops on your tongue, and it’ll wear off in half an hour.”

Endre rummaged in one of the kitchen’s cabinets and removed a small glass vial filled with a brownish-yellow liquid. He crinkled his nose. “It even looks like vomit. Where do you find this stuff, sir?”

Valek grinned. “I’ve a source in Sitia who makes it for me.” Leif always brewed potent concoctions, but he never bothered to improve the taste or smell. “Take the vomit tonic right before you leave. It will kick in once you’re at work.”

“Kick in?” Annika gave him a pained look.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

* * *

After the moon disappeared behind the thick bank of storm clouds, Valek headed north along the coast, following the waves. Since it was too dark to see the path, he carried a bull’s-eye lantern and kept a small beam of light trained on the ground in front of him. He peered into the inky blackness of the ocean, searching for a ship’s light. Nothing.

The edge of the storm reached land. Rain tapped against his black cloak. The castle’s seamstress, Dilana, had soaked the material in a liquid wax to help repel water, but Valek had learned from experience that, with enough time, it would become waterlogged.

Gusts of wind blew ashore, flapping his cloak and threatening to extinguish the lantern’s flame. Even though he pulled the hood over his head, the salty spray stung his eyes and burned his nose.

The rolling sand dunes along the coast turned rocky and steep. A blast of air from the north meant the cliffs must be ahead, deflecting the storm’s wind. Even though he was unable to spot the sheer bluffs in the darkness, their massive presence loomed over him.

Valek retreated, finding a spot that he’d pick if he was on a boat and searching for a place to land. Then he hunkered down, closed the lantern’s slide and waited.

He wondered what Yelena, Ari and Janco had discovered about the glass-house plants. It had been thirteen days since they parted. Was she on her way to the rendezvous point? Worry for her and the baby swirled.

At least she hadn’t reached him with one of her desperate mental calls. Thrice before, she had been in dire trouble in Sitia and reached for him in a blind panic. Her frantic fear had ripped through him like a giant monster’s sharp claws. Each time, he’d opened himself to her, loaning his strength and immunity to her across the miles. It had saved her life, and those times had been the only ones where they magically connected. Except now... His blood ran cold. Without her magic, would Yelena be able to reach him? Probably not.

What the hell was he doing here? Crouching in the rain, hoping to spot a gang of young thieves. Was this important to him? No. Catch these thieves and more would just pop up someplace else. He needed to be with his wife, even if she wasn’t in danger. He’d let his job keep them apart for far too long. All he had to do was retire, and once free of the Commander’s orders, he’d assassinate Owen.

Valek stood and wiped rain from his eyes. He turned and halted. A sigh escaped his lips. As much as he wished to go, he’d never leave a job unfinished. He revised his to-do list. Catch the Storm Thieves, retire, assassinate Owen. He returned to his position and tried not to fret over Yelena. After all, she was resourceful and smart. Plus Ari and Janco would never let her out of their sight.

Hours later, a light bobbed on the water. Valek watched it with keen interest. The light broke into two points. The second one appeared to head for shore. As it drew closer, it clarified into four lanterns. The yellow glow revealed a large rowboat with four figures rowing and four others holding the lights. When they reached the shallow water, the rolling waves around the boat smoothed flat. Valek squinted. No rain or wind buffeted the craft, either. Sticky magic pressed on Valek. One of those eight must be the magician. Despite his earlier claims of not caring about these thieves, excitement warmed his chest.

Two men jumped out and pulled the boat’s prow onto the beach. There was enough light for Valek to distinguish male and female, but not enough to observe facial features. Three men and two women hopped onto the sand. They carried two of the lanterns. Exchanging a few words with the woman in the boat, the five then strode across the sand, heading inland.

The men pushed the craft into deeper water and leaped in. Picking up the oars, they rowed toward the light still bobbing in the ocean. The water under the boat remained smooth despite the storm surge, which meant the magician had stayed with the rowboat. Valek’d bet a gold coin it was the woman sitting in the stern. Valek moved closer, risking being spotted to get a clear view of the magician. She was young. Sixteen, maybe seventeen years old. Pretty with long dark hair. At least she wasn’t one of the Stormdancers.

Unable to follow the rowboat in storm-tossed seas, Valek trailed the group that had been dropped off. If they were a raiding party, then why did the boat leave? Perhaps they planned to rendezvous later at another location. That would be rather smart.

As the Storm Thieves traveled east, Valek recalled the map of the area. No towns or farms had been built here. There was nothing of value to steal. Maybe they’d hidden a stash of goods and were retrieving their stolen supplies. After hiking two miles, the Storm Thieves turned south, paralleling the coastline. The wind eased and soon it stopped raining.

When they bypassed Gandrel, the half-moon shone through a film of wispy clouds. Valek suspected that the Storm Thieves were headed to the steer farm. Instead of relying on the storm, they might be attempting to steal the cattle later tonight when everyone was asleep. An unexpected move. Again, he suspected their leader wasn’t an average thief.

But how would they transport the animals? Someone would hear the hooves on the wooden planks of the dock. And he doubted they would bring them back to the beach where they’d landed. That boat was too small unless they carried one steer at a time. In that case, they’d have to make multiple trips, but no one would be searching for them up there. Now the question remained, were the Storm Thieves clever enough to make it work?

A quarter of a mile before the steer farm, they turned east, not west as expected. Curious, Valek closed the distance between them. After half a mile, the five hurried down an overgrown lane and into a barn with a sagging roof and weathered wood. Valek looped to the back of the dilapidated structure. A rusted chain wrapped around the handles of a set of warped doors. An oversize padlock cinched the chain tight.

The barn had only one exit. Good. Scrawny pine trees surrounded the area. There were no other buildings or lights visible. Lantern light glowed through the two dirty windows. Valek peeked inside. The Storm Thieves set up bedrolls. The glass garbled their words, but their tone suggested a relaxed, easy banter. Interesting.

Valek found a hidden vantage point and waited. Nothing happened. They remained inside. Right before dawn, he checked on them again. They slept in a circle around one of the lanterns. It still glowed. The faint light illuminated their young faces, ranging in age from fifteen to nineteen.

A heaviness pressed on his shoulders. These kids had ruined their futures by being a part of the Storm Thieves. No spouse or children for them. The Code of Behavior didn’t give second chances.

He mulled over the reason they hid in the barn. That second storm would hit the steer farm tonight, and these five would already be there to lead the cattle to the ship, saving time. And with the noise of the wind and waves, no one would hear the animals’ passage over the dock. Shrewd. Very shrewd. And perfect for him. He knew just what to do.

Valek returned to the apartment. His cloak, uniform and hair were stiff with dried salt and sand. The cold air had soaked into his bones. He stirred the coals in the hearth to life and added logs. Then he washed up and changed into his adviser’s uniform.