“I’d prefer a broken bone than cracked ribs,” I said. “You can’t breathe or laugh or twist or sleep without pain.”

“Yeah, but if you break your leg, then you can’t walk. And a broken arm makes it harder to fight.”

“You can’t fight with cracked ribs.”

“I can.”

“Considering our present situation, I hope you’re not exaggerating.”

Janco didn’t reply right away. “So what’s Owen’s plan?”

I explained about the memory wipe.

“I’d rather be killed.” Janco sounded horrified.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve some memories I’d be happy to forget.” I mulled over Owen’s confidence in regaining the Commander’s trust. The Commander already had plenty of Curare. What else could Owen offer him? I mentioned it to Janco.

“Maybe he discovered a new drug from one of his jungle plants.”

“His jungle plants? Is that a euphemism for something else?”

“No. He’s growing the Curare vine in these...hot glass houses.”

“He’s growing it? That’s...” I searched for a word to describe the magnitude of this news.

“Serious trouble for all of us?”

“To put it mildly.”

“Yeah. That’s why they got the drop on me. I was still reeling.” Janco described what he’d found inside the hothouse before he was captured. “Do you recognize any of the other vegetation?”

“I’d have to see it.”

“Maybe Owen will give us a tour before he scrambles our brains.”

Trust Janco to put a positive spin on a bad situation. At least he was entertaining. We could be here awhile. “What are the chances of Owen’s people catching Onora?”

“No chance. She’s probably halfway to Ixia by now.”

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s smart. And she has no reason to be loyal to us. Ari would charge in here like a bull seeing a lady bull wearing red.”

“There are no lady bulls.”

“Sure there are. How do you think we get baby bulls?”

It required too much energy to explain about the bulls and the bees to Janco. “Ari would be caught right away.”

“That’s beside the point. Onora’s like Valek—cold and calculating. Well, like him when he’s not with you.”

At least that meant we had some time to figure out a way to escape. I craned my neck. Janco met my gaze and tilted his head toward the guards, then cleared his throat. The guards kept their attention on the hatch, but checked on us from time to time. I nodded my understanding.

When both guards faced forward, Janco pulled his right wrist free. He dug in the waistband of his pants and withdrew a small knife. I watched the guards and signaled with a cough whenever one turned his head our way.

After twenty minutes or so, Janco called, “Hey, boneheads! I’m hungry. Ya got anything to eat?”

I glanced at him. He appeared to be still tied to the stakes. Janco continued to harass the guards. They threatened to gag him, but he increased his taunting until Broken Teeth stood up with a growl.

He approached and pulled a cloth from his pocket. “I’ve got a snotty hankie just for you.” Broken Teeth leaned over.

Janco slashed at his throat with the small knife. The guard yelled, and then Janco grabbed the man’s dagger and stabbed it into his stomach. Broken Teeth’s partner raced up the ramp.

“Ah hell.” Janco cut the ropes around his ankles, scrambled to his feet and sprinted after him.

I waited. Broken Teeth groaned, cursed and promised to kill Janco, but he didn’t chase after him and, eventually, he slumped over. Unconscious or dead, I couldn’t tell until the stench of offal reached me. Dead.

Nothing happened for a long time. Then shadows crossed the hatch and four guards descended. I laid my head back and hoped they hadn’t killed Janco. They untied me and marched me back to the main floor. Janco knelt on the ground surrounded by six guards who pointed their swords at him. Blood from a cut on his forehead spilled down his cheek. His hands were laced behind his neck.

“Sorry,” he said, looking miserable.

“You tried,” I said.

But he tilted his head to the left. Onora stood in the middle of another group of guards. Her pale face and wide eyes gave her the appearance of being nervous, but she scanned the room as if assessing weaknesses. I copied her. At least two dozen of Owen’s smugglers filled the area along with Owen, Ben and his three magician friends. Oh joy.

“Take them to the stables,” Owen ordered.

We tried to resist, but they dragged us into the daylight and to the stable. The large wooden building had two rows of stalls. But these were fully enclosed, with bars on the top half to prevent horses from jumping. Or to keep a person contained inside.

Pushed into a stall, I tumbled to the straw-coated floor. By the time I gained my feet, the door had locked shut. Janco occupied the one to my left and Onora stood in the stall to my right.

Owen consulted with Cilly and Loris.

I asked Onora, “How did they catch you?”

“Tactical error.” She paced the six-foot-square space and twisted the end of her shirt.

If she was digging for lock picks, she’d better hurry. I lowered my voice. “Did you send a message?”

“No time.”

“Couldn’t you at least lie to me?”