Night Study (Soulfinders #2) - Maria V. Snyder Page 0,106

off. It was the driver of the wagon. He just about fainted when he spotted Leif chatting with the gate guards. Stunned for a moment, Janco only had time to slip under the tarp before the wagon pulled away.

25

YELENA

I woke with a horrible headache and my mouth as dry as sawdust. Confused, I peered at my surroundings. The simple room had a night table, a single bed, one door and unadorned white walls. Not Fisk’s colorful guest room. Something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t move. Curare!

Panicked, I thrashed and stopped when I realized my movements were only limited, not paralyzed. Just my hands and feet had been secured. What did it say about my life when I took comfort in that?

Taking a few deep breaths, I calmed my racing heart. I concentrated on the facts. My symptoms matched being drugged with sleeping potion. Concern for the baby burned, and it triggered other worries. And then I remembered. Leif! He’d been captured. Yet that wasn’t completely true. He was okay, but not okay. My thoughts spun and I closed my eyes. Perhaps I’d wake a second time and everything would be clear.

The doorknob rattled, and I opened my eyes in time to see Leif enter. He carried a tray of food. My relief at seeing him fizzled when Bruns Jewelrose and a couple goons followed him into my room. My memory jerked to life, and my arm burned where my rat bastard of a brother had pricked me with sleeping potion. I glared at Leif.

“I had to do it,” Leif said. “You wouldn’t listen to reason, and Bruns was worried Ari and Janco would find us.”

“That’s because nothing Bruns said was reasonable,” I said.

“I thought the same thing at first. But you really need to see what he’s done here. It’s wonderful.” Leif used the same tone he used to describe a delicious stew.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Of course,” Bruns said. “Just finish hearing me out, and then decide.”

“And if I still think you’re a raving lunatic?”

Bruns pressed his lips together and smoothed an invisible wrinkle on his sleeve. “Then we’ll discuss your options.”

“Options, eh?” My imagination produced a number of horrific scenarios. I quelled my emotions. In this situation, I suspected logic and cold calculation would be required. “All right. I’ll listen.”

Leif smiled. One of the goons placed a chair near the bottom of my bed while the other freed my wrists. I sat up and resisted the urge to check my clothing for my lock picks and switchblade. Bruns sat in the chair.

Leif placed the tray on my lap. “You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten. The chef is an artist. Everything he makes is divine.”

I started with the water, draining half in one gulp. Bruns explained his theory about the Commander’s imminent invasion. I half listened as I tried the stew. Leif hadn’t been exaggerating. The broth had a nice balance of sweet and spicy. After I swallowed, I picked up on a subtle aftertaste. It tasted familiar. It took me another three bites to identify the substance. Theobroma.

Putting the spoon down, I reached for the water.

“Something wrong with the food?” Bruns asked.

“No. My stomach is still unsettled,” I lied. “You were talking about Sitia’s assets...” I prompted.

Bruns continued with his logical yet warped reasoning for protecting Sitia. I glanced at my brother. His expression was one of rapt devotion. No surprise, considering he’d probably consumed mass quantities of the Theobroma-laced food. The substance lowered a magician’s resistance to magical influence and rendered a person without magic very susceptible to suggestion.

I listened to Bruns’s well-rehearsed speech and agreed to take a tour of his facilities. They freed my ankles.

“Before we go, I’d like to talk with my brother. In private,” I said.

“Of course.” Bruns stood and flicked invisible dust from his pants. “We’ll be right outside waiting for you.” He left with his goons.

Leif stepped back. “You’re not going to get upset again, are you?”

“No. I understand what’s going on here.”

Relief smoothed his features. “Finally! Isn’t Bruns a genius?”

Not the word I’d use, but I had to choose my words with care. “Leif, there’s a good reason why you love the food. It’s been cooked with Theobroma.”

His brow crinkled. “You must be mistaken.”

“You know I have a sensitive palate.” My survival had depended on it when I’d been the Commander’s food taster. “Take a bite.”

He did. Concern flashed, then he smiled. “Of course! It makes total sense. The Commander has Curare, and Bruns wants to protect our soldiers. If