“Yes, but it’s named after a town in the foothills of the Emerald Mountains, where the river starts,” I said.
“That jibes with our other intel about the disappearing wagons,” Janco said. “Ari and the grunt planned to check it out on the Ixian side.”
I considered. “Onora, did you see the men or hear any names?”
“No. When Maren left with the horses and wagon, I followed her.”
Janco straightened. “Why?”
“I knew the smugglers’ plans, but I didn’t know her destination.”
“And?” he asked.
“She’s returning to Ixia.”
“Through the tunnel we found?”
“No. Why would she? She’s an adviser to the Commander and can cross the border without trouble.”
“Except she’s working undercover. That would tip the smugglers off,” Janco said.
“Unless—”
“She’s not a traitor,” Janco growled at Onora.
“Unless things have gotten too hot for her.”
I suppressed a smile. Onora might be young, but she had plenty of confidence.
“Speculation will only get us so far,” I said, trying to break the tension. “If they’re planning on moving their inventory then we need to raid the factory.”
Janco glanced around the room. “Do you have an army I don’t know about?”
“I’ll talk to Lapeer’s town watch. That might tip the smugglers off, but at this point we need to get a good look inside. There might be invoices and other documents that would indicate who is supplying them with the Curare vine.” The vine grew in the Illiais Jungle, my clan’s lands, and the Zaltanas were supposed to be guarding it for just this reason. Concern for my family pulsed in my heart. I’d have to send a message to my father, warning him of poachers.
“While you organize the watchmen, we’ll keep an eye on the factory,” Onora said. “We’ll follow anyone who leaves before the raid.”
“We?” Janco smirked. “Just can’t get enough of my company, can you, sweetheart?”
Onora met my gaze.
“It’s best to ignore him.”
“Easier said than done,” she muttered.
“Hear that, Yelena?” Janco bumped my arm with his elbow. “I’m irresistible.”
* * *
After Onora finished her breakfast, we split up once again. I rode The Madam to Lapeer. The afternoon sun warmed my shoulders. To avoid falling asleep in the saddle, I mulled over all the information from Janco and Onora. What was in those casks Maren loaded into the wagon? Curare, probably. The significance of that hit me. So worried about who’d been producing the drug, I hadn’t considered the ramifications of it being available to Ixians. The Sitian Council kept strict control of it for a reason.
If the criminal element in Ixia had access to Curare, then Valek and his corps would no longer have an advantage. My stomach churned just thinking about it. At least Maren managed to take some with her and out of circulation. Or had she? An evil thought popped into my head.
Maybe the Commander was a client. If Sitia ever attacked Ixia, they’d have the upper hand. Sitia had magicians, the super messengers and Curare. It made sense for the Commander to want to even the playing field a bit by importing Curare. Except Janco had said the Commander made finding and stopping the smugglers a priority. Why would he do that if he was benefiting from them? He wouldn’t.
The tight knot in my chest eased. I spurred The Madam into a gallop and headed straight for the town’s station house.
My arrival was initially met with some resistance, but having a reputation as a powerful Soulfinder pushed past the doubts. Handy. As predicted, it took a while for the captain to organize his forces. We had to wait for off-duty officers to report in and for everyone to be briefed. The delay allowed Janco and Onora to get into position, but it reduced our chances of catching anyone. Hopefully they’d trail whoever bailed. If that was the case, one of them would eventually return to let me know where the smugglers went.
“Speed is better than surprise,” I said to Captain Fleming for the tenth time. “They already know we’re coming.”
Sure enough, the factory was empty by the time we arrived later that afternoon. I hoped Janco had witnessed the exodus. At least I had a couple of hours of sunlight left to search the place. Papers littering the office, drawers hanging open and scuffs on the floor were all evidence of their hasty exit. In the factory, not much remained behind except for the equipment. Not even one of those casks. The rooms on the second floor remained full of storage, and I suspected the boxes had been left over from the previous tenants.
I scanned a few of the documents, looking for information. The captain tsked over the vats of half-pulped Curare vines and insisted everything would be destroyed.
“Didn’t you recognize the smell?” I asked.
“Nope. We’re not allowed to carry Curare. That’s only for the bigger cities.” He assigned a man to collect all the papers to bring back to the station to analyze.
I righted an office chair and sat. Hard to believe they managed to empty the place in twelve hours. Perhaps they had a hidden storeroom and after all the commotion died down, they’d return for the rest of their stock. Maybe in a basement?
While the officers cataloged the equipment and inventoried the storage rooms’ boxes, I searched for a hidden door. I ran my fingers along the walls in case an entrance had been concealed by a magical illusion. Soon my hands turned black with grime. After encountering a couple of dead ends, I found a small stairwell. At first, it appeared to go to only the second floor. However, an invisible metal seam marked the floor underneath the steps. Feeling my way, I discovered a square metal panel.