“All he would tell me is the client is wealthy and has ties to Councilor Jewelrose.”

Valek considered. That narrowed it down to one clan. “Do you know why this person hired the assassin?”

“No. But I will tell you the assassin is called The Mosquito because he keeps a vial of the victim’s blood as a souvenir. He also won’t quit until he finishes the job. Even if it takes years.”

Not good. “Do you know his real name?”

“No. And I don’t want to. I plan on retiring soon.”

“Anything else?”

“The Mosquito wasn’t hired until after that attack on your girl.”

Valek sat down. “There’s another assassin.”

“It’s possible, but no one contacted any of the Sitian assassins for hire. Either there’s a brand-new player, or it’s someone from Ixia.”

Or both. Valek thought about Onora. She had the skills and the intelligence to wear boots sized for a man to throw him off. But why would she?

“Last thing,” Arbon said. “The Mosquito mentioned that the only reason he took the job was because his client assured him she is vulnerable.” He shook his head. “No. He didn’t elaborate.”

Valek’s stomach pinched with worry. If the rumors about Yelena being weak spread, she’d have more than two assassins after her. “Thanks, Arbon.”

“Are we square?”

“Yep.”

Arbon left the same way he’d arrived. Valek brooded in his chair, mulling over everything Arbon had said. Onora’s arrival the very night he returned from Sitia had seemed rather convenient. Was the attack on Yelena a test to see if Valek would remain with Yelena instead of returning to Ixia? Something had happened to the Commander while Valek was gone. Perhaps Onora had sneaked into his suite prior to Valek’s return and surprised him.

Guessing would get Valek nowhere. He needed to find the right time and place to talk to the Commander—maybe after they’d stopped the smugglers. And while Valek’s heart urged him to abandon his duties in Ixia and race to protect Yelena, his mind reminded him she was traveling with Leif and another magician, and that many others had underestimated her in the past and all had regretted it.

Valek decided that he’d discover the smugglers’ new route and then make a detour to find Yelena.

* * *

“You just returned,” the Commander said. He swirled pear brandy around his glass, staring at the pale yellow liquid.

“There’s evidence that magic is involved with the smuggling operation and only I can sense it,” Valek said.

“All right. Go and shut them down. If you find a tunnel, collapse it. If you find a hole in our border defense, plug it. If you find a warehouse full of illegal goods, burn it down. If you encounter anyone who doesn’t have permission to be in Ixia, arrest them. If you discover a magician within our borders, kill him.”

Oh boy. Valek drank a mouthful of brandy to give him time to absorb the Commander’s intent. “You wish to send a message to the smugglers.” A big message.

“Yes.”

“Pull the weed and all its roots so it doesn’t grow back?”

The Commander smiled. “Exactly. Take as many soldiers as you need.”

“All right, but I’ll leave Ari in charge of security.”

“Are you worried I’ll be targeted again?”

“No. I’m concerned our security forces will revert back to their old ways while I’m gone. Ari will ensure the castle guards and your detail follow the new procedures I’ve implemented.”

“And save yourself some work.”

“Exactly.”

“When do you plan to leave?” the Commander asked.

“I’ll need time to organize my people, brief them and collect supplies. I expect small teams to leave the complex after sunset. Better to travel at night just in case anyone’s watching the castle for unusual activity.”

“Keep me updated if possible.”

“Yes, sir.” Valek finished his drink and left.

He crossed the hall to his apartment. Margg had lit the lanterns in his living room. And even though a warm yellow glow coated the furniture, his piles of books and his heaps of carving rocks, an emptiness hung in the air. The challenge and thrill of the hunt had dulled somewhat. Valek paused at the door to Yelena’s old bedroom. Maybe if he wished hard enough, she’d appear in the threshold. And probably admonish him for being so maudlin. At least with shutting down the smuggling operation, he’d have an excuse to travel to Sitia and see her.

Before going to bed, he sat at his desk and wrote a list of people for the mission. Then he outlined a few ideas on how to optimize their strike, using the three key ingredients for success—surprise, speed and intensity.

Valek glanced at his collection of weapons hanging on the wall. His favorite knife hung in the center. Those three elements had been vital in assassinating the King.

That night remained crystal clear in his memories. Once he was in position—wedged between the ceiling and wooden rafters of the Queen’s receiving room—Valek waited. It wasn’t long before the King arrived with his six guards. When the King entered her bedroom, Valek would have mere seconds to disable the guards before the King realized the Queen had been poisoned.

The guards fanned out. Two by the Queen’s bedroom, two near the entrance and two by the windows. Valek pressed his blowpipe to his lips. His left hand clutched the other darts. He had a clear shot at four of the guards. The ones by the window would be harder.