When the wagons trundled out of sight, Janco followed. Pain pierced his skull as he exited the cave. When it dulled, he turned around. The cave’s entrance was no longer visible. Another magical illusion hid it.
Keeping well back from the wagons, he wasn’t too worried about losing them. The heavy wagons made deep impressions into the ground. Plus the moon cast enough light to illuminate the wheels’ tracks, and dawn was still a few hours away. Janco yawned. Guess it’d be another night without sleep.
He increased his pace when he noticed a faint glow in the distance. There could be a city ahead, and it would be difficult to track the wagons over cobblestones. The smugglers headed toward a town and crossed a bridge. Only one street had been lined with lanterns, which meant calling the place a town was being generous.
The rush and gurgle of water sounded loud in the quiet night. A cold mist hovered over the banks of the river. The temperature dropped as he ghosted over the bridge, keeping low to avoid being seen. The smugglers entered a warehouse on the edge of town.
After the wagons disappeared into the darkness, a big metal door rolled silently down. Someone kept that door well oiled. Considering the moisture in the air, that sucker would have squealed without proper care. The air also held a familiar scent, but Janco couldn’t put a name to it.
Janco scanned the streets, but no one was in sight. He cased the building—two stories, flat roof, brick construction and easy-to-break-in windows—his favorite type. Debating if he should sneak in or wait for Onora, he decided to wait—for now. Janco found a perfect spot to watch for signs of activity like lantern light in the windows, which would mean they planned to stay awhile. Noises would also tip him off. Even if she knew he was here, Janco doubted Onora would be the type to yell or scream for help. His spot also gave him a view of all the exit points. Bonus!
When no one left after an hour, Janco figured the windows might be blacked out. And they could have soundproofed the building. It depended on how smart they were. Considering the magical illusion and tunnel, Janco guessed they had a certain level of sophistication. Adding that to the fact that once the sun rose, he’d be stuck until nightfall, he left his hiding spot and climbed to a second-floor window.
Thick curtains had been drawn across it. He eased open the lower pane, listening for...well, anything. Nothing. So far. Counting to ten, he widened the gap and waited. It remained quiet. Janco parted the curtain, peeking inside. Blackness. He pushed the fabric aside, letting in the faint street light to reveal the contents of the room.
Janco relaxed. Crates had been piled in a haphazard fashion, suggesting this was a storage room. He clambered onto a pile, careful to transfer his weight slowly so the wood wouldn’t creak. Then he tied the curtain back. He planned to leave before dawn and he’d need the light to find the exit—especially if he was in a hurry.
After navigating over the crates and boxes, he reached the door. The knob turned without trouble. A brief thought—this seemed too easy—flashed, but he ignored it as he opened the door. Peeking out, Janco confirmed that the dark hallway was unoccupied. No light shone under any of the doors, so he kept moving. It didn’t take him long to find a stairwell on the far end of the building. Darkness swallowed the bottom of the stairs.
Janco trailed his hand along the railing and descended. When he reached the last step, he groped for the door and encountered a number of spiderwebs—yuck—before finding a handle. He sucked in a breath and pushed it open.
More blackness greeted him, but a slight lightening of his surroundings crept in as his eyes adjusted. That familiar scent overpowered his senses and he stifled a cough. He covered his nose with his sleeve.
Large dark shapes of machinery filled the area around him. They appeared to be big vats of liquid with pipes snaking between them along with mixing tools. Distant light called like a beacon. He avoided the equipment as he crossed the factory, aiming for an oversize entrance. Beyond that, light flickered.
He peered into the other room—a storage area. A bunch of people grouped around a stack of barrels, drinking, talking and laughing. The two wagons and four sweating horses stood nearby. Janco half expected Onora to sneak up to him and demand why he was there, but she didn’t.
Moving a little closer, Janco squinted at the words burned into the barrels. Ixian white brandy. Ah, the Commander’s special brew, which was illegal to sell to Sitia. That solved that puzzle.
Janco then scanned faces, counting the six muscular men who’d towed the wagons through the tunnel and the four who’d met them on the Sitian side.
And one extra. Maren.
26
YELENA
I slipped through the building next door to Opal’s glass factory, exiting into an alley. Letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, I paused. The acrid odor of rotting garbage filled the air. Distant sounds from the street reached me, but the narrow alley remained quiet.
Still wearing Reema’s cloak and the blond wig, I walked to the south end and turned right. Then I pressed next to the building, waiting. If anyone had been hidden in the alley, he would have to hustle to catch up and I’d spot him.
No one emerged. After a few more minutes, I continued down the street. Valek had taught me that trick and a few others. Without my powers, I’d need to rely on them and the null-shield pendant. Since Reema had my cloak, only the octopus remained to protect me from magic.
I kept to the shadows and let my fear guide me. When I turned west, my heart rate increased. Keeping to side streets, I traveled toward the heart of my terror. I reached a tight alley and every fiber of my being pressed on me to turn around and bolt. Death waited for me down this path. This alley must lead to Ben’s hiding place. Before entering, I opened my cloak and draped the fabric over my shoulders to free my arms. I palmed a couple of Curare darts in my left hand and my switchblade in my right with my thumb near the button. My hands shook as my heart skittered.