Maria Snyder - Dawn Study

“How did Owen get to Ambrose?” Valek asked her.

“Owen pleaded for his life. He promised my son barrels of Curare for his army in exchange. It appeared to be a standard business deal, but Owen planted a...seed, I think, during that first meeting.”

“A seed?”

“A powerful suggestion in Ambrose’s mind that Owen was to be trusted.”

Ah, hell. That was over four years ago.

“What happened to the null shields in his uniforms?”

“Owen forced Ambrose to lie about them to you so you wouldn’t suspect he was being influenced by the magician.”

Valek considered. “It worked. Plus, I didn’t notice any change in him. Not then.”

“No one did. It was subtle. In fact, Ambrose wouldn’t believe me—he was too focused on getting Curare for his soldiers. Owen kept the connection hidden until he arrived at the castle. By then it was too late.”

“When is Owen planning to take over Sitia?”

“Once the Cartel has control of the Sitian military, it’s a done deal. They are going to assign military districts and generals to the clans.”

“The Sitian people won’t accept that.” Especially Fisk and his people.

“Owen and the Cartel have a way to change their minds.”

“There isn’t enough Theobroma for everyone in Sitia.”

“They don’t need Theobroma. They have something else,” Signe said.

A cold wave of fear swept through him. “What is it?”

“I wish I knew. Owen won’t tell Ambrose what it is. But it doesn’t matter at this point. My son cannot disobey Owen’s commands.”

“But you can?”

“For now. Owen believes I’m trapped, like Ambrose, and we’ve been careful to keep up the ruse.”

Good to know. Valek focused on the problem at hand. “Do you have any idea what it is?”

“All I know is that Owen learned about it from his ancestor, Master Magician Ellis Moon. It was in the magician’s notes.”

Valek muttered a curse. “Does Owen have those notes with him?”

“I don’t think so. He complained that he could only copy the information, despite being a direct descendant. They’re considered vital historical documents and are kept in the Magician’s Keep’s library. He made an odd comment about how the library wouldn’t let him take the files.”

Muted voices reached them through the gap under the door. The doorknob jiggled.

“You need to go,” Signe said.

9

JANCO

Janco resisted the urge to scratch. No matter what color he dyed his hair, it always caused his scalp to itch something fierce. And the fake ear glued over his scarred one just added to his discomfort. Sweat pooled underneath the putty, driving him crazy. Add in the heat and humidity, and Janco longed for an assignment on the northern ice sheet. At this point, he’d gladly endure frostbite and evade snow cats. Better than dodging deadly Greenblade bees.

The creak of wood and rattle of a harness cut through Janco’s misery. From his hiding spot, he craned his neck, peering around a bush. Sure enough, a wagon rode into view, heading west. Two horses pulled it at a fast trot. Janco waited as it slowed. The driver—a tall, impossibly thin Greenblade man Janco had nicknamed Toothpick—must have spotted the tree trunk lying across the road. The tree wasn’t big enough to halt the wagon entirely, but in order to continue his journey, the driver would have to roll over it with care or risk a broken wheel.

Janco shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. When the horses stepped over the log, he slipped behind the wagon. As the wheels thumped over the obstruction, Janco climbed in and crawled under the tarp, avoiding the sacks of white coal as he wedged his body between the other supplies.

The wagon increased its speed after it cleared the trunk. Janco grinned and pumped his fist. Toothpick didn’t have a clue he’d just picked up a passenger. Not sure how long it would be until they stopped, Janco settled into a more comfortable position.

Janco’d been watching and tracking the deliveries to the Greenblade garrison for two weeks now, trying to identify which wagon brought in the Theobroma for the cook to use in the garrison’s food. It had been harder than he expected, since they used a tarp and the schedule was erratic. But once he figured out Toothpick was the delivery man, it didn’t take long to plan a way to hop a ride to see just where the Theobroma was coming from.

Janco checked the lump under his tunic, ensuring it remained in place. The null shield pendant kept the Cartel’s magicians from brainwashing him and also from detecting him. They’d been rather vigilant about spies, which was why he couldn’t simply follow the wagon on horseback.

As the afternoon turned into evening, Janco guessed Toothpick would stop for the night. He remembered General Brazell’s Theobroma-producing factory. They had smelled the sweet aroma of the drug miles downwind. He doubted many of the Greenbladers recognized the scent. However, finding an isolated spot to produce the stuff must have been difficult, since the Greenblade forest, which covered two-thirds of their lands, had dozens of tiny settlements all over the place.

When the wagon slowed hours later, Janco prepared to ditch. While certain he could take Toothpick without breaking a sweat, Janco didn’t want to ruin the mission. This was an information-gathering endeavor. Ari, his partner, had just about pounded the importance of not being seen into Janco’s head.

Slipping out before the horses stopped, Janco dropped onto the road. He ducked into the woods as the wagon continued toward a bright yellow glow. Perhaps Toothpick had decided to overnight in one of the settlements. By the distant brightness, Janco guessed it must be one of the bigger villages.

Janco hurried to catch up, but paused at the edge of the...town? He stared through the trees at the wide array of buildings and factories. People bustled between them even at this late hour. Greenery filled the extra-long glass hothouses lined up like fingers—ten in all. The nutty sweetness of Theobroma fogged the air and mixed with the unmistakable citrus tang of Curare.

Holy snow cats! He’d hit the jackpot.

Or had he? This was blatant, even for Bruns. And judging by the age of the tree stumps and worn paths, this had been here for years. Someone would have noticed it by now. Unless Owen had set it up and scared off the locals?

The answer popped into his head, and Janco almost groaned aloud. Idiot.

He removed the null shield pendant—a gift from Leif—and a dark forest replaced the scene of bright industry. All sounds ceased, and only a moist, earthy scent filled his nose. Pain burned in his right ear.

The town was covered by a massive illusion. Even though Janco hated magic, he had to admit the deception was impressive. The main road curved around the northern edge, so unsuspecting travelers would avoid all the buildings.

Looping the pendant back around his neck, Janco squinted in the sudden light. He spent the next couple hours observing. The activity slowed well after midnight, with only a few people remaining outside. The desire to nose about the complex to learn more pulsed in his chest. Perhaps he’d spot Owen’s Master Gardener. The man or woman had to be in charge of this operation. And Janco even wore the long green tunic and pants that the Greenblade men preferred. His light brown hair and tanned skin matched them as well.

However, Janco remembered the last time he’d pushed his luck. He’d ended up not only getting caught but also causing the rest of his team to be captured. Dax had died, Hale went missing and Leif had almost died.

Being sensible for the first time in his life, Janco left, jogging along the road. He’d report back to Ari and, after they sent the information to Fisk, they’d return and have a good snoop.