I SCANNED THE TWO MUSCULAR guards. Swords, short knives and manacles hung from their belts. They were well armed, and wore grim expressions of recognition. I was outmatched. I touched the familiar lump of the switchblade strapped to my thigh, but decided to wait until the odds were more in my favor.
The guards gestured for me to accompany them. I shot a final beseeching look at the Commander, but nothing so far had roused him from his oblivious stupor.
I felt a small surge of hope when the guards led me to a tiny, barren room in the guest wing instead of the underground cells in which Brazell housed his prisoners. Having spent a week in those dank, rat-infested chambers after I killed Reyad, I loathed the thought of ever going back.
After the door was locked behind me, I took comfort from removing the picks from my hair. The lock was a basic pin-and-tumbler type, which would be easy to open. Before springing it, I slipped a small pick with a mirror on the end under the door. With the mirror, I spied a pair of boots standing on either side. Those overachieving guards had stationed themselves outside my room.
I went to the window. The guest wing was on the second floor. My view included the main courtyard. I could jump to the ground if I was desperate, but for now I would wait.
The next day, I was permitted out of my room only to taste the Commander’s meals. After breakfast, Mogkan waved a small vial of antidote in front of my face.
“If you want this, you must answer a question,” he said.
I steadied my nerves. With a calm voice, I replied, “You’re bluffing. If you wanted me dead, I wouldn’t be standing here now.”
“I assure you, it’s only a temporary condition.” Anger burned in his eyes. “I’m merely offering you a choice. Death by Butterfly’s Dust is a long, ugly and excruciating experience, while, say, slitting your throat is quick—a moment of pain.”
“What’s the question?”
“Where’s Valek?”
“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. I hadn’t seen Valek since the fight in the woods. Mogkan considered my answer. Taking advantage of his distracted state, I plucked the vial from his hand and drained it in a single gulp.
Mogkan’s face reddened with fury. He seized my shoulders then shoved me toward the guards. “Take her back to her room,” he ordered.
Once there, I wondered what mischief Valek was creating. I doubted he was sitting idle. Mogkan’s questions on Valek’s whereabouts confirmed my suspicions. Restless, I paced the small chamber, longing for a workout with Ari and Janco.
During my brief visits with the Commander over the next few days, I began to recognize that my presence was part of Mogkan’s show. In order to keep the Commander’s advisers from becoming suspicious, Brazell pretended the Commander was still giving orders. At one point, Brazell leaned close to the Commander as if they were having a private conversation, then proclaimed that, per Commander Ambrose’s request, a factory tour would be scheduled for the next day.
I was allowed to join the group going to the plant. This surprised me almost as much as the fact that none of the Commander’s advisers made a protest or comment about Brazell manufacturing Criollo instead of the livestock feed he had reported on his permit. They munched on bars of Criollo, content to nod and agree with Brazell that the factory was a marvelous invention.
As we walked through the building, sweltering heat pulsed from the gigantic roasters that were continuously fed with Sitian beans. Workers, streaked with sweat and black dust, shoveled coal into the massive fires under the ovens. Once roasted, the beans were conveyored to a large area where other workers cracked their shells with mallets, extracting a dark brown nib. Steel rollers crushed the nibs into a paste. The paste was spooned into a five-foot-wide metal container to which sugar, milk and butter were added. Using steel pitchforks, workers stirred these ingredients until the mixture became a smooth, thick liquid, which was then poured into square and rectangular-shaped molds.
A veritable shop of delightful smells and flavors, the place was, however, a joyless environment. The dour employees, uniforms soiled with Criollo and sweat, grunted and strained under the physical exertion. During the tour, I searched the various work areas for poisonous or addictive ingredients that might be slipped into the mix but found none.
When the group returned to Brazell’s manor house, I watched the animated expressions on the advisers’ faces leak away, leaving behind the same blank look that had taken over the Commander’s face. Which meant that there must be a link between eating Criollo and succumbing to Mogkan’s magic. Mogkan’s show would end as soon as he had gained control of the advisers’ minds, and when that happened my accommodations would change for the worse.
That night, under cover of darkness, I dropped my cloak out the window of my room and banged on the door, calling to the guards.
When the door opened, I declared, “I need a bath.” Without waiting for a response, I strode with purpose down the hallway. The guards followed.
At the baths, one guard stopped me in the hallway while his companion looked around inside. Only when he was sure I would be alone did he nod and step back.
As I went through the entrance, I said in an authoritative voice, “I don’t need an audience. Wait here, I won’t be long.”
To my delight they remained outside. I scurried to the far wall where, hidden from view, there was another entrance. The guards might work in the manor house, but I’d grown up here. With a child’s curiosity and free time, I had been able to explore almost every corner of the house. Only Brazell’s private suite, office and Reyad’s wing had been off-limits. Unfortunately once I turned sixteen, Reyad’s wing became my daily nightmare. Pushing away the thought, I concentrated on the present.
I pulled the handle of the door and encountered my first unwanted surprise. It was locked. No problem, I thought, reaching for my picks. The mechanism popped with ease, the door swung open, and I discovered a second nasty shock. One of the guards waited in the hallway.
He smirked. I rushed him. Using my momentum, I shoved him off balance and punched him in the groin. A dirty Valek move, but I didn’t care as I raced down the corridor, leaving the guard far behind.
Slipping out the south entrance, I retrieved my cloak, and then headed west to find my pack and bow. Bright moonlight illuminated my path, and I could see where I was going; however, my true path was less evident. I knew I couldn’t help the Commander from a locked room, but I was unsure what I could do from the outside. I needed to talk to Valek. Deciding it would be too risky to go to the barracks, I took to the treetops. Only Valek knew this trick. Once he learned of my escape, he would track me.
When I reached the open area reserved for the annual fire festival’s visit to MD–5, I stopped for the night. Shivering in my cloak, I huddled against a tree trunk, blowing clouds of steam from my mouth. Once, I heard the baying of dogs and distant shouts, but no one came close to my makeshift bed in the tree. Sleep eluded me; I was too cold and nervous. Instead, I envisioned the bright fabric of the festival tents in the clearing, hoping to warm myself by remembering the hot energy of the festival nights.
I imagined the big tops in their proper places. Dancers, singers and acrobats lined up in the middle of the clearing. Food stands huddled in and around the big tents, scenting the air with mouthwatering treats. I went to the festival every hot season when I had lived under Brazell’s roof. It had been the highlight of my existence. Although my memories of those last two years, when I had been Reyad’s laboratory rat, were dreadful.
Unable to resist, I climbed down from the tree and walked through my imaginary festival. I stopped where the acrobatics tent had stood, wondering if I could still perform the tumbling routine that had won me first place and the fire amulet. Without thought, I tossed off my cloak and started a warm-up. In the back of my mind, I knew I should be hiding, that it was stupid to be this exposed to discovery, but the desire to relive my one moment of true joy was too strong to deny.
Soon all thoughts of Brazell, Reyad and Mogkan were banished as I spun and soared through the air. My mind settled into the mental zone of pure concentration I used when I fought. I relished the release, brief as it might be, from my days of tension and threat.
As I performed my routine, I discovered that I could push my heightened awareness beyond my body to encompass the trees, even sense the animals in the forest. An owl, perched high on a branch, tracked the movements of a field mouse. A family of possums slipped without sound through the underbrush. A woman, crouched behind a stone, watched me.
Stealing into Irys’s mind was as easy as slipping on a pair of gloves. Her thoughts flowed into my mind like silk. I reminded her of her younger sister, Lily, and she longed to be back home with her family, not sneaking around in cold, horrid Ixia. The situation in the north was getting dangerous; she would be safer in Sitia. But for how long? she wondered. As a master-level magician, she couldn’t allow the abuse of power that she had felt emanating from this area to continue. Kangom, who called himself Mogkan, was producing Theobroma at alarming quantities. He had also rigged a way to intensify his power.
Irys’s thoughts returned to me, and I felt a tug on our mental connection.
Yelena, what are you doing in my mind?
I’m not sure how I got here.
Haven’t you figured it out by now? You’re focusing your magic when you fight. That’s why you instinctively anticipate your opponent’s moves. I felt you at the castle when you were fighting your friends. Now that you have learned to harness your power, you have taken the next logical step by expanding it beyond the immediate area.
My surprise broke our link. I stopped, panting in the cold night air as Irys emerged from the woods.
“Does that mean I’m not going to flame out?” I asked.
“You’ve stabilized, but you won’t get any stronger unless you receive the proper training. You don’t want to waste your potential. Come south now; your pursuers are miles away.”
“The Commander…”
“Is ensorcelled. Nothing you can do; his mind is probably gone. Mogkan has been feeding him Theobroma. I’ve smelled it since I arrived.”
“Theobroma? Do you mean Criollo? The brown-colored sweet that Brazell’s manufacturing.”
“That sounds right. It opens a mind to magical influence. It relaxes the mental defenses, allowing easy access to someone’s mind. We use it as a training tool in controlled situations where a fledgling magician is close to the subject. The Commander has a strong personality, very resistant to magical suggestion. Theobroma breaks down that barrier, which helps when a student is learning, but using it on the Commander to gain control of his mind is the same as rape.” Irys pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders. “Even with Theobroma, a magician shouldn’t be able to reach the Commander’s mind from this distance, but Mogkan has. He has found a way to boost his power.”
Irys rubbed her arms with her hands, trying to warm up. “I’m guessing Mogkan’s visit to the castle was to lock himself into the Commander’s mind so he could lead him out here.”
“What can we do to break the lock?” I asked.
“Kill Mogkan. But it’ll be difficult. He’s very powerful.”
“Isn’t there another way?” I recalled my conversation in the woods with Valek about murder as a solution. My formula, he had said, and it still annoyed me. He’d probably never been in the lose-lose situation I was always finding myself in.
“Block Mogkan’s power supply. That might work. He’ll still have his magic, but it won’t be enhanced.”
“What would his extra power look like? How do we find it?”
“My guess would be that he’s either recruited a number of magicians to pool their power, or he’s devised a way to concentrate the power source without warping it.” She paused, considering. “Diamonds.”
“Diamonds?” A cold knot of anxiety churned in my stomach. There was so much I didn’t know about magic.
“Yes. Very expensive, but they will gather and store power like a hot coal holds heat. He might be using diamonds to enhance his magic. He would need a man-size circle of diamonds, and that’s not easily hidden. If we could find this circle I might be able to use it to block his power or, at least, redirect it long enough for you to awaken the Commander.”
“What if the source is a group of magicians? How would I recognize them?”
“Unfortunately, Ixia doesn’t have a uniform for magicians,” Irys said, her voice sharp with sarcasm. “Instead of searching for them, look for an empty room with a wagon-wheel design painted on the floor. To link magical power, each magician must be perfectly aligned along the edge of a circle.”
“I can search the manor, but I need help,” I said. “I need Valek.”
“You need a miracle,” Irys replied with a wry twist to her lips.
“Can you direct Valek here?”
“He’s already on his way. You two have forged a strong connection, although I don’t know if it’s of magical origin.” Irys pursed her lips. “I’d better go before Valek arrives. When and if you discover the source of Mogkan’s extra power, chant my name in your mind. I’ll hear your call because we, too, have created a bond. Our mental link grows stronger each time we communicate. I’ll try to help you with the Commander. But no promises. I’m after Mogkan.” She disappeared into the forest.
While I waited for Valek, I paced on the packed dirt and tried to think of a way to find Mogkan’s power source. Irys’s words about needing a miracle were, indeed, an understatement.
To distract myself, I focused on my surroundings. The tread of many feet had rubbed out the grass and trampled the earth until it was worn smooth and shiny. I remembered digging my heels into this same hard dirt the last time I was here, when Reyad dragged me to the manor house to punish me for disobeying him and winning the amulet. I had pressed that prize so tight against my skin it had left a mark. Then I had hidden it to keep it out of Reyad’s cruel hands.
Two years had passed since I had buried my amulet. Someone had probably discovered it by now. For an exercise, I tried using my new magical skill. Directing my awareness downward, I circled the clearing. I made many circuits and was growing bored, when suddenly, the soles of my feet felt hot. When I continued they cooled. I moved here and there until, once more, heat stabbed my feet.
Taking my grappling hook from my pack, I dug at the spot. My efforts revealed some fabric. I tossed my hook aside and clawed at the ground with my fingernails, uncovering my lost amulet.
It was dull and covered with dirt. The ribbon that held it was torn and stained. Pressing the flame-shaped amulet against my chest, I felt warmth emanating from it. I put it down to fill the hole, humming a tune. Cleaning the palm-size medal on my pants, I strung it onto the necklace chain with Valek’s butterfly.
“Not the best hiding place. Wouldn’t you agree?” Valek asked.
I jumped. How long had he been standing behind me?
“They’re searching for you. Why did you run?” he asked.
I briefed Valek on the Commander, Mogkan, the factory and the advisers, hoping he would draw the same conclusions I had.
“So Mogkan is using Criollo to take control of their minds, but where’s he getting the power?” Valek asked.
“I don’t know. We need to search the manor.”
“You mean, I need to?”
“No, we. I grew up there. I know every inch.” The first place I wanted to look was in Reyad’s laboratory wing. “When do we start?”
“Now. We have four hours till dawn. What are we looking for?”
When I explained that we were seeking either a circle of diamonds or a painted wheel, Valek’s thin eyebrows puckered as if he wanted to question me about how I had come by this information. He held his peace and headed back toward the barracks.
I hid outside while Valek changed into his black skintight sneak suit. He brought me a dark-colored shirt to wear over my bright red uniform shirt, and carried an unlit bull’s-eye lantern. My cloak would be too cumbersome for creeping through the halls, so I hid it in the bushes.
We found a back door near the servants’ quarters. Valek lit the lantern. Pushing the slide almost closed, he allowed only a thin ray of light to escape. Inside the manor, I took the lead.
Reyad’s suite was in the east wing on the ground floor, opposite the laboratory. The entire wing had been his, and there were a number of doors that he’d kept locked while I had been the resident laboratory rat.
Old horrors haunted me as we searched. My skin felt tight and hot. I recognized the faint acidic aroma of fear that mixed with the dust stirred by our footsteps. It was my smell. I had worn it like a perfume whenever Reyad dragged me to his test.
The thick air pressed down on me, filling my mouth with the taste of ashes and blood. I had bitten my hand without conscious thought. It was an old habit, a way to stifle my cries.
Exploring the laboratory room, the thin lantern’s beam spotlighted instruments hanging from the walls and piled on the tables. Each revelation sent a cold numbing pulse through my body, and I shrank away from the large shadows of equipment unrevealed, unwilling to even brush against them. The room resembled a torture chamber rather than a place for experiments.
Feeling like an animal pierced in the metal jaws of a trap, I wanted to scream and bolt from the room. Why had I brought Valek here? Brazell’s advisers were housed on the second floor. Mogkan’s diamond device, if there was such a thing, was probably hidden near his room, not down here.
Valek hadn’t said a word since lighting the lantern. In the hallway outside Reyad’s bedroom, a physical force prevented me from entering. My muscles trembled. An icy sweat soaked my uniform. I waited at the door while Valek went in. I could see the dark malevolent shape of Reyad’s sadistic “toy” chest lurking in a corner of the room. If I burned that chest to cinders, I wondered, would my nightmares cease?
“Not if I can help it,” Reyad’s ghost said, materializing beside me in the hallway.
I jerked back, hitting the wall. A yelp escaped my lips before I could shove my hand into my mouth.
“I thought you were gone for good,” I whispered.
“Never, Yelena. I will always be with you. My blood has soaked into your soul. You have no chance of cleansing me away.”
“I have no soul,” I said under my breath.
Reyad laughed. “Your soul is drenched black with the blood of your victims, my dear, that is why you can’t see it. When you die, that heavy blood-filled essence will sink to the bottom of the earth where you will burn in eternity for your crimes.”
“From the voice of experience,” I whispered with a rage that made my voice hiss.
Valek came out of Reyad’s room. With a face pale as bone, he stared at me with a horrified expression so long that I wondered if he had been struck dumb. Finally, closing the door, Valek walked past the ghost without seeing him, then stopped at the next locked room, pausing a moment with his head bowed to press a hand to his forehead.
“There’s someone who really needs to be haunted,” Reyad said, stabbing a ghostly white finger at Valek. “It’s a shame he doesn’t let his demons bother him, because I know a certain dead King that would love to plague him.” Reyad looked at me. “Only the weak invite their demons to live with them. Isn’t that right?”
I refused to answer Reyad as I followed Valek. We continued our search but it was obvious that, other than the laboratory, the wing had been abandoned. There were three doors left.
While Valek picked the two locks, Reyad chatted on. “My father will soon send you to me, Yelena. I’m looking forward to spending eternity with you.” He leered and wiggled his fingers at me.
But I was no longer interested in the ghost. The contents of the room before me riveted my attention. Inside, dozens of women and a few men flinched from the yellow beam of Valek’s lantern. Greasy hair obscured their dirt-streaked faces. Rags clung to their emaciated bodies. None of them spoke or cried out. To my increasing horror, I realized they were chained to the floor. In circles. One outer circle and two inner rings with lines painted between them.
When Valek and I stepped into the room, the foul stench of unwashed bodies and excrement wafted through the air. Gagging, I covered my mouth. Valek moved among them, asking questions. Who are you? Why are you here? His queries were met with silence. Their vacant eyes followed his passage. They remained where they were chained, staring.
I began to recognize some of the grubby faces. They had lived in the orphanage with me. They were the older girls and boys who had “graduated” and were supposed to be employed throughout the district. The sight of one girl, her ginger hair dull and matted, finally made me cry out in pain.
Carra’s soft brown eyes held no sign of intelligence as I stroked her shoulder and whispered her name. The free-spirited girl I had cared for in the orphanage had become a mindless, empty shell of a woman.
“My students,” Reyad said. His chest puffed out in pride as he floated in the middle of the room. “The ones who didn’t fail.”
“What now?” I asked Valek with a shaky voice.
“You’re arrested and thrown in the dungeon,” Mogkan answered from the entrance.
Valek and I spun in unison. Mogkan loomed in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. Valek charged him; fury blazed in his eyes. Mogkan stepped back into the hallway. I saw Valek stop just past the doorway and raise his hands in the air. Damn, I thought, racing to help him.
Mogkan stood like a coward behind eight guards. The tips of their swords were aimed mere inches from Valek’s chest.