The door stood ajar. He grabbed his knife and pressed against the wall to the side of the entrance. It’d be stupid to rush inside. The intruder could be armed with a crossbow. Valek slid his small mirror from his pocket. It resembled a lock pick, but with a round reflective surface on the end. Careful not to catch the light from the lanterns, Valek angled the mirror to look inside. A dark-haired man sat at his desk.

“Come on in, King Killer.” The man waved.

Valek kept his weapon in hand as he entered. Only a few people could breach the castle’s security and then be brazen about it. “What are you doing here, Arbon?”

“I heard you were looking for me.” He spread his arms wide. “So here I am.”

Keeping a firm grip on his knife, Valek approached his desk.

Arbon grinned and gestured at Valek’s hand. “I see you’re still skittish.”

“Cautious,” Valek corrected. “You don’t live long in this business without it.”

“Ah yes. I’ve heard about the young chicky who almost took you out.”

Leaning back in Valek’s chair, Arbon appeared relaxed. Patches of silver painted his black hair, he had filled out a bit in the middle, and wrinkles creased his tan skin, yet he still resembled the young boy who’d trained with Valek at Hedda’s school. He wore a servant’s uniform with the Commander’s colors of red and black.

“You’ve been hearing lots of things. Does this mean you’ve been in town for a while?”

Arbon’s booming laugh echoed on the stone walls. “I’m surprised you don’t know. Or is it in one of these reports?” Arbon ran his fingers over the stacks of files. “I’d never pegged you for a desk jockey. No wonder you’re losing your touch.”

Valek stepped closer and brandished his knife. “Care to test your theory?”

“Love to, but this is a friendly visit. What did you want to talk to me about?”

He sheathed his weapon. “My chair.”

A smile played on Arbon’s lips. “You wanted to talk to me about a chair?”

Valek waited.

With a huff of amusement, Arbon stood and made a grand sweeping bow before relocating to the visitor’s chair.

Valek settled behind his desk. He pulled one of the files from a stack and opened it. “I’m looking for information about an assassination attempt on Liaison Yelena Zaltana. According to my records, you’ve been living and working in Sitia.”

“Thanks to you and the Commander, that’s where the jobs are. The market in Ixia dried up after the takeover.”

Ignoring Arbon’s jab, he asked, “Did anyone contact you about this job?”

“Of course they did. I’m the best in Sitia. But once I learned who the mark was, I told them to find someone else. Going after your girl would be suicide. I’m not suicidal.”

“Do you know who tried to hire you?”

“You know better than to ask that.”

Hedda had never shared the names of her clients with her assassins. It had provided protection for both of them. And Valek had been content with that arrangement until he’d met Ambrose.

“Do you know who agreed to take the job?” Valek asked.

“I’m not ratting out my fellow assassins.”

“I didn’t ask for a name.”

Arbon stared at him a moment. “I know a few others who might have taken the assignment despite the risks, but I don’t know which one.”

“I’m looking for a male magician. Know anyone like that?”

“Why a magician?”

“He hid behind a null shield.”

“Hell, Valek, that could be anyone. These days it’s easy to purchase a cloak or even undergarments that have null shields woven into the fabric. What weapon did he use?”

“Bow and arrow.”

Arbon laced his fingers together and rested them on his stomach. “That narrows it down to three or four. When did it happen?”

“Seventeen days ago.”

“That rules out the Hunter.”

“The Hunter?”

“Yeah, the Sitian assassins all have monikers to keep their real identities a secret.” Arbon didn’t sound impressed.

Valek couldn’t resist asking, “What’s yours?”

“The Ixian. Original, eh?”

“Accurate. What about the other possible assassins?”

“Sorry, can’t do it. I’m planning on retiring soon and don’t need some guy with a grudge tracking me down.”

“Fine. How about you find out who took the job and ask him who hired him? Get me the name of the patron and I won’t go after the assassin.”

“And why would I do that?”

Time for the ace. “Because you owe me a favor and I’m collecting.”

Arbon shook his head. “I waited all these years for you to ask for that favor. I figured after the takeover, you’d forgotten or you didn’t want help from me.”

“I offered you a position on my staff.”

“Yeah, well, I like my freedom.”

“I have freedom.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” Valek’s tone turned icy.

“It doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing. From what I’ve seen and heard, the Commander holds your leash and has since you first met him.”

“You know nothing about it. Now, can you get me that name or not?”