Sure enough, near dawn, the man entered the outer boundary of the School of Night and Shadows. Or what had once been the school. When the Commander took over Ixia, work for assassins in Ixia had dwindled. Hedda eventually closed the school instead of taking the offer to work with Valek and the Commander. But they’d recently discovered from Onora that Hedda hadn’t retired, and had actually been training a few students.

Fresh grief for his old teacher rose. Onora had killed Hedda. Probably because she wouldn’t divulge the name of the client who had hired an assassin to target the Commander.

Memories stirred as Valek kept the man in sight. When he’d first arrived on Hedda’s doorstep, the school had plenty of students. Now the place appeared deserted—although he doubted it was. In fact, this location would be a perfect spot to run another illegal operation, like stealing during storms.

The man disappeared into the main building. In this part of MD-1, cliffs lined the Sunset Ocean, and Hedda had built her school to resemble the rocky terrain, painting all the structures in the complex to blend in with the surrounding grayish-white landscape.

The sky brightened as dawn’s first rays chased away the blackness. Valek looped around to a little-known entrance. From the undisturbed and thick coating of salt and rust on the combination lock, he guessed no one had come through here in years. Good thing the corrosive salt air eventually turned metal brittle. Valek broke the lock in two and slipped inside.

He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Voices bounced off the stone walls. Concentrating, he detected two speakers, but the words were garbled. Valek tracked the conversation until he understood the speech. He listened next to an open door. Yellow lantern light spilled into the hallway.

“...no one followed me. Stop worrying so much,” a man said in a placating tone.

“You’re an idiot. You just killed me,” a woman responded with a twang that Valek would never forget.

“Relax. Valek’s not here for you, but I thought you’d like to know he’s in the area,” the man said.

Valek stepped into the room, surprising the man, but not Hedda.

“I’m closer than you think. And she’s right,” Valek said. “You are an idiot.” Then he turned to his former teacher.

Hedda stood behind her desk with a knife already in her hand. All but a few fiery red strands of her hair had turned gray. Wrinkles etched her forehead and drew her mouth into a frown.

“Hello, Hedda.” Unconcerned about the blade, Valek strode closer. “Nice to see you alive and well.”

She inclined her head politely. “King Killer.” Her grip tightened on her weapon. “Did the Commander send you?”

15

LEIF

“They’re trying to grow Theobroma-resistant Curare?” Leif repeated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Esau said. “This...” He waved the thin branch. Its oval-shaped leaves bounced with the motion. “...is a crossbreed of the Theobroma tree and the Curare vine. If this grows pods, the Theobroma seeds might contain Curare. If you press those seeds, you might get a Curare that can’t be neutralized by Theobroma.”

Sitia’s army would be unable to defend itself against the paralyzing drug. The Commander’s soldiers could invade without any resistance. The thought of having to wear a uniform and obey his Code of Behavior soured Leif’s stomach. “So you don’t know if they’ve been successful?”

“I’d have to wait until it produces pods that are ready to be harvested, and then test it.” Excitement raised Esau’s voice at the prospect.

Leif studied the specimen. Owen had escaped this compound but was unable to take these plants with him. However, he’d cleaned out his other hothouses. This might be the only sample they had. “How long until the pods are ready?”

“Oh, I’d say about...three, maybe four years.”

Somehow, Leif didn’t think Owen or the Commander would give them those years. But then again, it would take Owen the same amount of time to supply his men with the resistant Curare.

“What about the other crossbreed plants?” he asked his father.

“One at a time, my boy. One at a time. Is that dinner?” Esau gestured to the tray Leif held.

“Supper, Father. You worked through dinner.” Leif set the tray on the ground. “When it gets dark, come inside the farmhouse. I’ll have a bath ready for you.”

Already chewing on an apple, Esau nodded, but his gaze had returned to the greenery surrounding him. Leif left, knowing he’d have to return and fetch his father or the man would work through the night. When his father immersed himself in a project, Leif’s role was simple—take care of Esau’s needs.

Esau decided he needed to catalog all the plants in the hothouse, along with the investigation of the crossbreeds. Over the course of a few days he determined that Owen’s gardener had crossed a few medicinal plants.

“Very clever,” Esau said. “This way one plant will take care of two symptoms. Less to pack!”

“Do you recognize the person who did the crossbreeding?” Leif asked. “Is it someone from our clan?”

“No to both questions. However, I suspect it is someone from the Greenblade Clan. They have forest experts who have been crossbreeding trees to grow a harder wood for buildings.”

“But how are they getting the jungle plants?”

“We can’t patrol the entire jungle, Leif. Curare and Theobroma grow all over and are just as accessible at the border of the Cowan Clan’s lands as well as deep in the interior.”