Night Study (24 page)

Valek noted her use of the past tense. “Instead she concocted a story of your demise. Risky.”

“Compassionate. As you said, I aided her in her time of need.”

He tapped a finger on the edge of his empty glass. “The Onora puzzle takes another unexpected turn.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure her out. You always do.” She splashed a generous amount of brandy into his glass. Hedda raised hers and said, “To solving puzzles.” They clinked.

The alcohol left a fiery trail down his throat. “Speaking of puzzles, have you heard anything about these Storm Thieves?”

“I may have. It’s probably just gossip and rumors,” she hedged.

Valek dug a gold coin from his pocket and set it on the desk. “How about now?”

She snatched it in one quick motion. “Damn foolish kids.” Jabbing a finger at Valek, she scowled. “I knew they’d eventually attract too much attention.”

“They’ve been rather successful for a bunch of foolish kids.”

“That’s because no one had linked their petty and seemingly random crimes until recently. Because, like most criminals, they grew bolder and hit bigger targets, and it was just a matter of time until...” Hedda swept a hand, indicating Valek.

“Do you know where they’ve been operating from?”

“No. No one does. That’s why they still haven’t been caught.”

“Do you know who is involved?”

“Well... I’ve heard rumors.”

Valek understood the hint. He dropped another gold coin on the desk. This one disappeared as quickly as the first.

“They’re a group of teenagers—mostly the children of fishermen. The thefts started at the beginning of the cooling season, when the fleet arrived in port waiting for warmer weather and calmer seas.”

So a bunch of bored kids taking advantage of the storms, but they’d been rather smart. Too smart. Valek suspected a more experienced person led them. “Anything else?”

“I’ve lived on the coast all my life. In sixty-two years, we’ve never had a cold season like the one we just had.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve always had plenty of snow, rain, wind and fog. This past year, we’ve had more storms, but they don’t last near as long and they always rage overnight.”

Valek considered. “The Commander has allowed Stormdancers up on the northern ice sheet.”

“And they tamed the nasty blizzards sweeping down from the north, but these others are blowing in from the west.”

Ah. “Magic?” He’d suspected it before, but not for the storms.

She shrugged. “Maybe. You’ve killed all my magicians, so I can’t say for sure.”

He didn’t bother to correct her. The Commander had ordered their executions soon after the takeover, but they’d had more than enough time to escape to Sitia. Valek had made sure of that.

Thanking Hedda for the information, Valek reminisced with her for a while before he left. “Keep your low profile, and when your young idiot is ready, have him request a transfer to the Commander’s company.”

She smiled. “His name is Gannon.”

No surprise he was the one Colonel Ransley mentioned as showing promise.

As Valek hiked back to the garrison, he mulled over all he’d learned from Hedda. He concentrated on the Storm Thieves, putting himself in their place. Bored and physically able to climb ropes and rigging on heaving seas, the young fishermen would have no trouble scaling a wall. They’d also been on boats most of their lives, knew the currents and tides and could spot all the warning signs of approaching foul weather. Valek had no problem believing they were the thieves; however, the fact that his corps hadn’t been able to catch them or discover their hideout didn’t fit. Magic could explain it. Or an older leader. Or both.

When he returned to the garrison, he checked on Onyx. The black horse’s coat gleamed and his tail and mane had been combed. Onyx snuffled Valek’s empty hand, searching for a treat. Valek laughed when Onyx’s ears dropped in obvious disappointment. He fed the horse a carrot before swinging by the canteen in time for supper.

The loud rumble of voices dwindled and then ceased by the time he’d grabbed a bowl of clam stew, a hunk of bread and a wedge of cheese. He scanned the tables of soldiers. Predominantly male, most of them averted their gazes. However, in the back right corner, a table full of female soldiers ate. Much to their terrified surprise, he joined them. The first thing he noticed was they were all low-ranking, and not a commissioned officer among them.

Once they recovered from their shock and overcame their fear of him, they answered his questions about the garrison’s male-dominated leaders.

“Is it true that half of the Commander’s personal guard are female?” asked a woman who introduced herself as Sergeant First Class Jaga.

“Yes. And half of his advisers. In fact, the Commander would be upset with the ratio at this garrison. What happened to all your colleagues?”

“Transferred. We stayed because we have family nearby,” Jaga said.

“Any inappropriate behavior, Sergeant?”

“No, sir.”

She didn’t hesitate or exchange glances with her colleagues, which meant she told the truth. Good. He asked her about the higher-ranking officers.

“They’ve been here for ages, sir. All promoted from within.”

“I see.” The garrison was way overdue for an inspection. It was partly his fault for avoiding the area all these years. “I think it’s soon time for an update and some fresh blood.”

They smiled.

“It won’t be until after the hot season.” And only if the Commander didn’t declare war on Sitia.

“It will be worth the wait, sir,” Jaga said.

Valek finished eating and returned to his rooms. A pile of MD-1 uniforms waited for him on the small table. He checked for intruders before collapsing on the bed.

The next morning, Valek changed into a basic laborer’s uniform. The black pants had a row of white diamonds down the outside of each leg. A row of white diamonds cut across the chest of the black tunic. Throughout Ixia, laborers were men and women who filled in where extra people were needed for a project or job. They had a variety of skills from construction to harvesting crops, and they frequently traveled from one city to another. In other words, the perfect cover for Valek.

He transferred a few things he’d need into a well-worn rucksack, tied his hair back with an old piece of string and altered his appearance just enough to throw a casual observer off. Most Ixians only knew his name and wouldn’t recognize him. When he exited the garrison, he stopped and rubbed dirt over the white diamonds on his clothes. Satisfied that he looked the part, Valek headed southwest to Gandrel, where the most recent and boldest burglary had occurred.

Six hours later he arrived in town. He reported to the local checkpoint and showed them his papers.

“Reason for visit?” the man asked in a bored voice.

“Repairing fishing nets for the fleet,” Valek answered. Once the cold season ended, the fishermen spent the warming season readying their boats.

The man grunted, stamped Valek’s paper and handed it back all without once glancing at Valek. If the rest of the security personnel matched this man’s attitude, then no wonder the Storm Thieves had no trouble stealing their weapons. Pathetic.

Valek visited the Sail Away Inn next. The innkeeper rented him a room, but the few other workers ignored him. Extra laborers usually arrived at the coast at this time of year. Since supper was a couple hours away, the common and dining room were empty. He waited in his room. It didn’t take long for a servant to knock. She carried towels and a bath kit for him.

Opening the door wide, Valek stepped aside, letting in Agent Annika, who explained about the amenities of the inn until the door closed.

“Where?” Valek asked.

“Four-fifteen Cannery Road, second floor, sir. There’s an entrance in the back, through the alley. Endre’s there now. His shift doesn’t start until later.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded and left. He followed soon after. Every town in Ixia had at least one inn and a security office—the two best places to gather information. Valek had an agent in both. Larger cities warranted more agents. And the agents shared a safe house or apartment as a base for their covert operations.

The yellow paint peeled from the wood of building number four-fifteen, which was wedged in the middle of a row of houses. The pungent odor of fish guts fogged the street. Valek looped around to the alley and climbed the metal ladder to the apartment.

Endre yanked open the door before Valek reached it. The burly man held a dagger, but his fierce expression smoothed with recognition.

“Welcome, sir,” Endre said as Valek entered the small unit—half of it was living space, the other used for work.

Valek noted with approval the maps of the area covering the table with the thieves’ targets already marked. Times, dates and stolen items had been listed next to each.

“Any news, Endre?”

“Since the hit on the security office, no other incidents have been reported, sir.”

“Any progress on finding the thieves’ hideout?”

“No, sir. Security officers from Gandrel, Krillow and Coral Caye have searched every cove, building, boat, port and wooded area.”

Valek studied the map. “Looks like they hit every town along MD-1’s coast. I thought the targets were random.”

“At first they appeared random, but reports were slow coming in from some towns. They didn’t make the connection to the storms right away. But even so, if you look at the times and dates, there’s still no pattern.”

“And no one knows where and when they’ll strike next?”

“No, sir. But Annika is working on finding a few informers. She’ll report back here after the supper crowd.”

“Tell me about the theft of the weapons.”

“They struck in the middle of the night during a nasty downpour. The guys on duty didn’t hear a thing and frankly didn’t think the thieves would have the gall to rob us. Up until that hit, the Stormers took mostly money, equipment, tools and food. But they left nothing behind but puddles on the floor.”

“Stormers?”

“It’s what the officers call them.”

Ah. “Any boot prints?”

“No. Just the water.”

“Fresh or salt?” Valek asked.

Endre’s thick eyebrows smashed together like two caterpillars butting heads. “We didn’t check. I’m assuming fresh from the rain. Why would it matter?”

“You tell me.”

He ran a hand over the short bristle of his black hair. “Salt would mean they came up from the beach.”

“Or waded in from a boat.”

“Not this time of year. It’d be suicide.”

It would be dangerous for ordinary thieves. But what if one of them used magic to navigate the seas? He recalled Opal’s description of how the Stormdancers harvested energy from the storms. They kept a bubble of calm around them as they worked to avoid being swept out to sea. Valek wondered what the Stormdancers did during their off-season. Kade and Heli helped with the blizzards in Ixia, but one of the others might be helping these thieves.

Valek tucked the thought away to investigate later and returned to the break-in. “Forced entry?”

“Yeah, crowbar on the back door and on the weapon lockers.”

Not professionals, or they would’ve used lock picks. Valek considered. “Do you have a complete list of what’s been stolen?”

“Yes, sir.” Endre hunted through papers lying on a desk and pulled one from the pile. “I copied this from all the reports. After the weapons were stolen, the Gandrel office took the lead on the investigation. All the other offices have sent their incident reports to us.”

Interesting. “Where are these reports being kept?”

“In a conference room. The captain formed a team of investigators and we’ve been working in there, poring over all the information.”

“You don’t sound too impressed.”

Endre grinned. “They’re not us, sir. I can only do so much with these guys. Now, if you were on the team with Annika, then...”

Nice to know Endre had such confidence in him. “Then when can I get in there to take a look at those reports?”

“
You
can get in there anytime, sir.”

“I’d prefer to remain incognito if possible.” And as long as the news of his arrival hadn’t already spread to the Storm Thieves. While he’d been following Private Idiot slash Gannon to Hedda’s school, another mole could have sent a message to them.

“Oh, then late at night would be best. I’m on the graveyard shift tonight. If you can get into the conference room without being seen, I can make sure no one bothers you. You’ll have to leave before the morning shift arrives at dawn.”

“All right, then expect me after midnight.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any more information?”

The big man gestured to the desk. “Annika and I have been writing down what we’ve heard and other bits of news.” He brandished the list of stolen goods.

“May I?” Valek held out his hand.

“Of course, sir. Here.” Endre handed the list to Valek.

Valek scanned the items. Missing money and jewelry were expected, but others like wood, saws, nails, paint and teacups were not. He sat at the desk and read through the other papers. Endre and Annika had collected a nice variety of facts, including ruling out the initial suspects—a gang of teen troublemakers. Five young men and three young women had had run-ins with the local security for fighting, drinking and vandalism. However, they all had alibis for the storm thefts.

After an hour, Valek rejected the idea of bored teens as the culprits. No. The Storm Thieves were organized and had a precise plan. The building supplies meant their hideout either needed major repairs or they’d built a place. But any new building would have been found during the search.

Repairs? The salt air was corrosive. Each structure in a coastal town needed a new coat of paint every couple of years, and replacing rotted wood was a typical renovation. But why this much wood? Unless both the exterior and interiors had been rebuilt. Would the guards notice this during the inspections? He asked Endre.

“It depends on the person. Some of the officers are more observant than others, sir. The reports on the searches might mention something like that.”