“Don’t scratch them. And don’t touch the areas when you’re being searched,” Janco instructed.

“Got it.”

They reviewed the plan to rescue Yelena.

“Dax will leave the compound during supper and update Ari,” Leif said. “Hale will meet you on the south side of the administration building unless there are guards. In that case, he’ll rendezvous with you outside the magicians’ barracks.”

“Good. You might as well stay here until midnight. Bruns has increased the muscle searching the garrison for you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to finish my reconnaissance. There are a few places I haven’t checked, and if you think there’ll be a revolt, then we’re gonna need as much intel as possible.”

“Be very careful.”

Janco huffed. “I’m Mr. Careful.”

“Uh-huh. How many times have you been—”

“I don’t count. What’s past is past.” With a wave, Janco left.

Blending in with various groups of soldiers, Janco explored the infirmary and the stables. Without Leif to secure untainted food, Janco ate a few pieces of ancient jerky from his travel pack. He chewed on it forever.

The canteen buzzed with conversation and magic. Janco’s scar tweaked with pain. Despite the power, Janco thought it was a good time to discover where the unmarked door in the back left corner led. It didn’t have a keyhole or other evidence of a lock. The knob turned with ease as Janco, acting as if he used the door all the time, strode through and closed it behind him.

He stood on a small landing. Stairs led down into a tight stairwell, ending in grayness. There must be windows below, letting in the last of the daylight. Janco descended, zigzagging from landing to landing until he reached bottom. As he expected, small windows set near the ceiling ringed the basement.

Glancing around, he spotted a collection of chairs, stacks of wooden crates, barrels, a pile of tablecloths and a mound of potatoes—an obvious storage area for the canteen. Footsteps, the scrape of chairs and voices filtered down to him from above. There was another door at the far end of the room. Janco wove through the mess and considered it a win when he only banged his shin once on a broken leg jutting from a table.

This door also opened without trouble. Too bad trouble waited for him on the other side. Big trouble. Pain drilled through his skull.

28

YELENA

Disoriented, dry-mouthed and dizzy—the all-too-familiar aftereffects of sleeping potion. My blurry vision sharpened, along with the ache in my temples. I wished I hadn’t opened my eyes, but I couldn’t unsee the bars surrounding me or unsmell the wet, mucky dungeon stench mixed with the acrid odor of burned lantern oil—another aspect that I was well acquainted with.

Perhaps it was time to reexamine my life.

Bruns no longer knelt by me, and I no longer sat in a chair, but was sprawled on a pallet of straw. Better or worse? I pushed to a sitting position and groaned as intense pain danced behind my eyeballs. Nausea rolled, splashing up my throat.

Resting my head in my hands, I willed my stomach to settle and hoped the repeated dosing of sleeping potion hadn’t harmed the baby.

“It’s about time you woke up,” Janco grumped.

Oh, no. “I’m not awake. Because you’re not in here with me. You’re outside the garrison, rounding up the cavalry.”

“I hate to break this to you, sweetheart, but the cavalry is hanging with Bruns in the canteen, quaffing down Theobroma and kissing his rich ass.” The strain in his voice failed to match his flippant tone.

I swiveled. Janco stood in the next cell. Even in the dim lantern light, a bright red bruise shone on his swollen right cheek. His fake ear was gone, replaced by bloody scratches. His uniform was torn and blood stained the fabric.

“Is it as bad as you look?” I asked.

“Worse.”

“Don’t tell me.” I scanned the small cell, searching for a way to escape.

“I’m all for denial, but it won’t last.”

“Ignorance is bliss.” I ran my fingers through my tangled hair. The lock picks were gone, along with the set I’d hidden in the uniform Bruns made all of us wear.

“He’s smart, Yelena. And pissed off.”

I spotted a cup of water near the door. At least he wasn’t cruel.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Janco said when I raised it to my lips. “Unless you want Bruns to be your master.”

Stopping, I sniffed the liquid. Theobroma muddied the water.

“Can you say hunger strike?” Janco joked.

His words slammed into me as I realized that the joke was on me. I had to drink and eat for the baby’s sake. If we didn’t escape soon, eventually I’d consume enough Theobroma to be turned into one of Bruns’s supporters.

“Where are we?” I asked, setting the cup aside...for now.

“I thought you didn’t want to know.”

“Changed my mind.”

“We are in the special holding cells under the administration building.” He gestured to the four others—one next to him and three more across the aisle, which were all empty.

“Special how?”

“This place is saturated with magic. I can barely stand it.”

“Do you have any of your...toys?”

“No. They took everything, and the building has only one entrance. It’s probably surrounded by dozens of guards.”