The Study of Poisons, page 18
Valek had to get there first and warn the Commander not to say anything to her. Not until Valek could process everything and…he’d no idea. As soon as she was out of sight, he ran. She might have discovered some of the shortcuts in the castle, but he’d been living there for the last fifteen years.
She hadn’t reached the throne room yet when Valek burst into the office. He had only a few minutes.
The Commander looked up. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes, and I’ll explain later. But for now, please don’t tell Yelena anything.”
“I don’t normally.”
“Also hide any important information on your desk.”
The Commander slammed a fist on his desk. “You vouched for her. And now you’re telling me she’s a traitor.”
“She’s not. Well, not yet. It’s complicated and she’ll be here soon.”
“And you came running to tell me not to blab. To hide classified information. What the hell, Valek? Do I look like a complete moron to you?”
Any other time, Valek would have apologized, backed down, and tried to smooth things over. But he’d been blindsided by Yelena’s betrayal and the Commander’s change in personality. He’d had enough. Anger ignited in his chest.
“You’re not being you,” Valek said.
“What?”
“You’re acting different. I didn’t want you thinking you could trust Yelena and tell her—”
“Tell her what? Something like I changed my successor?”
“You didn’t. You wouldn’t.”
“I did.”
The hits just kept coming. “Whatever possessed you to change your successor?” Valek demanded.
“You really do want to be in charge,” the Commander said in a low, flat tone. “And now you want me to tell you my new successor so you can go assassinate him?”
The conversation had spiraled out of control and gone into the realm of ridiculous. Valek reigned in his temper and tried reason. “In the sixteen years I’ve known you, you’ve never reversed a decision. This isn’t a ploy to discover your successor. I just want to know why you changed your mind. Why now?”
“That is absolutely none of your business. You’ve pledged your loyalty to me, that means I give the orders and you obey without question. Do you understand?”
He understood that either the Commander and Yelena had been both acting out of character, or he had completely misread them. But as the Commander so callously reminded him, he’d sworn his allegiance, which meant following his orders.
“Always, sir,” he said in a clipped tone, suppressing the fury burning inside him.
Needing to leave before he did or said something he’d regret—or get hanged for—Valek jerked the door open. Yelena stumbled into the office and some of his anger escaped his efforts to control it. “Yelena, where the hell have you been? The Commander’s waiting for his dinner.” On the edge of exploding, Valek strode through the throne room. The other officers and advisers took one look at his expression and wisely moved from his path.
Valek had no memory of the trip back to his apartment. Once there, he released his hold on his emotions. Red hot rage, the sick knot of betrayal, and the uncertainty and fear about the Commander’s behavior rolled through his body with such strength, Valek had to move, or risk being crushed by the force of them.
This—
He paced around the living room, but the amount of energy expanded wasn’t near enough. Valek picked up his gray rocks and hurled them at the walls. The explosion caused by each impact matched the roar of his blood and gave him a tiny bit of relief.
This was why—
He heaved rock after rock until his arms ached. And it still wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough.
This was why I shouldn’t—
Prowling, he clutched two rocks in his fists, digging his fingernails into the hard surface.
This was why I shouldn’t have fallen—
Valek smashed the rocks together. Pain pierced his hands and shot up his forearms.
This was why I shouldn’t have fallen in love—
Stomping on a rock, he crushed it under his boot. Going over to a pile of rocks, he proceeded to turn them into rubble.
This was why I shouldn’t have fallen in love with Yelena.
He kicked over the piles of books, making a mess and enough noise to cover Yelena’s entrance. Valek wondered how long she stood there gaping at him in shock.
“What do you want?” he snarled.
“Nothing.” She fled to her room.
Good.
He stared at her closed door. It wasn’t her fault he’d fallen for her. Yelena had kept him at a distance from the beginning as, being an intelligent woman, she should.
Oh no. This was all his fault. He’d gotten carried away, thinking she’d be part of his team. Thinking that she’d be as loyal to the Commander as he was. He’d let his emotions overrule logic and plain good sense. And now he was paying the price.
After all those months, years, really, of suppressing his feelings, Valek indulged in a three-day vent. Or perhaps he should refer to it as a three-day sulk? Either way, it was three days of ill humor and having to interact with Yelena without letting her know that he no longer viewed her as an ally but as an enemy.
Three days to purge everything from his soul in order to prepare for the day when he’d have to kill Yelena. Because that was inevitable. She’d sell secrets to Star and scheme to escape and eventually…
Pure ice filled the emptiness inside him. He welcomed the crisp, clarity it lent to his thoughts and the hard edge it gave him. Valek focused on work with a renewed determination.
Sitting at his desk in his apartment, he read through the reports from the agents listening in on Star. She traded and bartered for information, which she sold to clients. Star also acted as a middleman for clients needing to hire goons or find people willing to break the law. Gambling was mentioned often in her conversations, but no indication she operated a parlor. However, one name jumped out at him in connection to the gambling. Figured. Valek shut the report in disgust.
He turned his attention to the next problem. Brazell had finally sent the Criollo recipe, which meant Rand would make enough for everyone to eat. Would the castle residents change? Would they all become more relaxed like the Commander? What would be the consequences? Unknown at this point. In any case, Valek needed to determine the effects of Criollo.
Reading through the list of ingredients in the Criollo recipe that he had surreptitiously copied, he paused when the door of his suite opened and clicked closed. Yelena. She’d been hiding in her bedroom the last three nights. Perhaps it was time for her to move out.
Instead of fleeing, she said, “I may have discovered what those beans are.”
Mildly surprised that she had kept working on Brazell’s factory beans, he swiveled to face her. “Really?” He used his coldest and flattest tone of voice. Could he really trust anything she said?
She met his gaze and stepped back. “I…” She swallowed. “I was talking to Rand, and he mentioned missing coffee. Do you remember coffee? A southern drink.”
“No.” Of course, he remembered coffee. Of all the Sitian goods that had been banned after the takeover, coffee had caused the loudest and longest outcry from the Ixians. Though he didn’t know coffee started out as beans.
“I think our beans might be coffee. If you don’t know what coffee is, perhaps I should show them to Rand. If that’s alright with you?”
All right? She’d already talked to the cook. And just like Rand, she’d sell the Commander out for a handful of coins. Anger cracked through the ice around his heart. “Go ahead; share your ideas with Rand. Your buddy, your best friend. You’re just like him.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“Do as you like. I don’t care.” Valek turned his back to her. Obviously from his heated reaction, he needed to work harder at not caring. At least his comments chased her away. But this time, her lock snapped in place.
Ah. He’d scared her. Good. She should be scared.
He turned his thoughts to the beans. If they were coffee beans, then why would Brazell wish to produce an outlawed southern drink? Everyone would know immediately as the smell would give it away. Unless Brazell hoped to grow the beans in Ixia? That would solve the legal issues and Ixians would buy coffee in bulk, making the general a richer man.
Valek would have to research how and where coffee was grown. His agents still hadn’t returned from following those wagons into Sitia. It’d been over sixty days since they’d left. If the beans were grown in the Illiais Jungle in the far south, then the length of time matched. He’d give them another week before sending scouts to locate them.
Pulling out the most recent report from his agents at the factory site, Valek read it. They said all the equipment had been installed and the next step would be to send test batches through. He’d have to wait for more updates from the factory and hope his agents didn’t get caught in Sitia.
A week after asking Yelena to spy, Margg had a morning meeting with Star. Not quite trusting the housekeeper, Valek followed her through the streets of Castletown. It had been a difficult few days. The Commander had demanded an explanation about Yelena and insisted Valek catch her in the act of treason as soon as possible.
Margg headed straight to Star’s building and was admitted. Valek looped around back and entered the house to the left. Star only posted a watcher in the alley at night. The person was easy to bypass, as they tended to sleep slouched in the doorway to her residence.
The narrow home had been abandoned a few years ago. The previous occupants had left nothing behind. Valek climbed to the third level where Inrick sat against a wall, jotting down notes. On the other side of that wall was Star’s study. He nodded at Valek but didn’t say anything because voices could be clearly heard on both sides of the wall through the holes.
Valek sat next to Inrick and listened.
“…were right. She agreed to sell information,” Margg said.
“Of course, I was right,” a female voice with a slight nasal tang said. “I’ve had the last four food tasters on my payroll.”
Four? No. Only the last two. The woman was lying to make herself seem more accomplished.
“Did she tell you anything of value?” Star asked.
“No. She wants to meet with you.” Margg’s tone was heavy with disgust. “The little rat doesn’t trust me.”
“Smart. In this business, trusting is a weakness.”
Valek agreed with that sentiment. Yet, it didn’t quite work in real life. You had to trust some people, or you couldn’t call it living. He trusted the Commander and his agents. And, yes, it was difficult to rely on them, especially when an agent turned out to be untrustworthy. In that case, all he could do was damage control, move on, and hope he learned a new way to detect those who might turn on him in the future.
“You trust me,” Margg said.
“For now. Your information has been accurate. Although, I would have liked some warning about the black market raid. My clients count on me to warn them.”
Star earned the bulk of her money from selling intelligence and she had quite the network of informers. Nice to know none of his agents tipped her off about the smash and grab.
Margg huffed. “I wasn’t privy to that information.”
“Do you think the little rat would have known?”
“I’ve no idea, but she has access to Valek’s suite—”
“She’s still living there? Even though Brazell is gone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you have anything new for me?” Star asked, sounding annoyed.
“Valek’s been in a foul mood since he argued with the Commander. I don’t know what that’s about.”
“Maybe one of his missions isn’t going well. Perhaps the food taster will know.”
“Maybe. When do you want to meet her?” Margg asked.
“Tomorrow night.”
After following Margg back to the castle, Valek was unable to focus on work. After a fruitless afternoon, he gave up and returned to his apartment. Lighting a lantern, he carried it up to his carving studio. He sorted through various shapes and sizes of rocks before one “spoke” to him. It sounded crazy, but he’d learned to let his subconscious pick his next project.
This time, the rock that had called was roughly circular and a bit flat. A good skipping stone. Hidden inside lurked another shape. One that he needed to free. One that would be revealed as he chiseled, chipped, and grinded away the surplus.
As he worked, his thoughts churned through his various problems. Valek wondered what news Yelena would sell to Star. Would she mention the Commander’s addiction to Criollo? Or about the change in his successor? She’d been right outside the door and had to have overheard their argument. Valek hadn’t raised his voice to Ambrose in a very long time. And since then, the Commander had been distant and cold to Valek. No surprise, as Valek had completely misjudged Yelena and put the Commander at risk. At least he’d learned about her before he included her in his team and she could sell damaging information. Should he set out some false data in various places to test if she snooped through his desk, or office, or the Commander’s office? Perhaps he’d include a few true tidbits, just to give her some credibility with Star. Might as well determine the holes in his security before arresting her. And he should—was that a knock?
He stopped grinding as Yelena opened the door. “What is it?” he asked.
She stood in the entrance. “I’ve had an offer. Someone wants to pay me for information about the Commander.”
He faced her. Was she confessing? With her tense posture and the crease of uncertainty on her face, she appeared ready to bolt. “Why tell me?”
“I thought you might want to follow along. This might be the one who has been leaking information about me.” It took him a moment to switch gears and for all her words to make sense. Before he could comment, she continued, “Espionage is illegal. You might want to make an arrest, or maybe even feed this leak some misinformation. You know, spy stuff. Remember? Or have you become bored with that, too?” Her question was sharp with anger.
It finally sunk in. She’d agreed to sell information to Star in order to help him and the Commander. Not betray them. The ice inside him melted in one gushing torrent, leaving him lightheaded. Yelena peered at him, waiting for his answer.
Valek pulled it together. “Who?” he asked. “And when?”
“Margg approached me, and she mentioned a contact. We’re meeting tomorrow night.”
“All right, proceed as planned. I’ll tail you to the rendezvous and see who we’re dealing with. We’ll start by feeding this contact some accurate information to make you look reliable. Perhaps the Commander’s change of successor would work. It’s harmless information that will be made public anyway. Then we’ll go from there.”
As they discussed the details of the mission, Valek kept his emotions in check, despite the relief and chagrin over jumping to conclusions and the horror of contemplating ending her life that twirled inside him like his grinding wheel. After they finished planning, she headed out the door.
He’d been wrong about her and he wanted to fix that mistake, to show he trusted her, believed in her. “Yelena.”
She halted in the threshold, looking back over her shoulder.
“You once said I wasn’t ready to believe your reason for killing Reyad. I’ll believe you now.”
“But I’m not ready to tell you,” she said and left.
It wasn’t a complete rejection. Not ready meant she might be able to confide in him in the future. And no wonder she didn’t trust him. He’d just spent the last week either in a rage or freezing her out.
Valek fidgeted with the rock he’d been working on as another thought occurred to him. What if she never let down her guard around him? Could she still be a member of his team? No. Until she trusted him, she’d just be a well-trained food taster.
He glanced at the almost finished carving in his hand. It was a Cheketo leaf. Smiling, Valek remembered Yelena had glued the big round leaves to camouflage her red uniform when she’d acted as a fugitive. Considering the southern magician’s interest in her and a few other puzzles, Yelena was still camouflaged.
Tonight, he had learned he couldn’t rush her. That she’d either eventually trust him or not. But he was determined to work at earning that trust. Even if it meant peeling off one Cheketo leaf at a time.
“Trust her or don’t trust her, which one is it, Valek?” the Commander asked in exasperation.
“Trust her. Yelena proved her loyalty last night. I’m the one who overreacted.”
“You? Overreact? Is this the same man who pushed me down a flight of stairs when General Rasmussen sneezed?”
At the Commander’s teasing tone, Valek relaxed back into the chair. They were in his office, and all was apparently forgiven. “In my defense, that sneeze sounded like the twang of a bow string. I thought an assassin had targeted you. Better a sprained knee than an arrow in the heart.”
“A sprained ankle.”
“You’re not going to let me live that one down, are you?”
“No.”
“Good to know. And I also wanted to let you know those factory beans of Brazell’s are grown in Sitia. My agents arrived early this morning. They followed the wagons all the way to the Illiais Jungle. Seems the pods grow on the trunks of short jungle trees. I still don’t know what the beans are used for. It’s not coffee. I found out those beans are shaped differently.”
“Valek, that’s enough. Leave Brazell’s feed mill alone. He obtained the proper permits, there’s no need to investigate further.”
Where did this come from? “But he’s buying illegal goods.”
“No. He’s not. He’s stealing them so he can grow those pods in Ixia.”
“How do you know?”
“He sent me an update about the factory. Those beans help the cows produce more milk and increase a steer’s weight.”
