Happy to see Yelena tucking into a heaping portion in front of her, Valek joined them, letting the conversation flow over him.

“I’d wake up every morning at dawn if I knew this was waiting for me,” Janco said, helping himself to another stack of sweet cakes. His salt-and-pepper-colored goatee was sticky with syrup.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Yelena teased.

“Not possible.”

“Enjoy it,” Leif said. “Tomorrow you’re all going to be eating dried jerky, stale bread and hard cheese.”

Janco groaned. “Nasty, Leif.”

“I’m sure we’ll be stopping at a few inns. Right?” Yelena asked Valek.

“We’ll see.”

“That’s Valek speak for ‘no way in hell.’” Janco stole a slice of bacon from her plate.

She stabbed him with her fork.

“Owww.”

Valek turned to Leif and asked him about other jungle experts.

Leif chewed his food while he thought. “I’ll ask my father. Compared to the rest of Sitia, most of the Zaltanas are experts. However, in order to transport plants, you need a higher level of knowledge.” He tapped a fork on the table. “And, thinking about it...some of those unfamiliar plants might be crossbreeds.” Leif tossed the silverware in disgust. “Of course, that’s why I couldn’t identify them!”

“Crossbreeds?”

“When you graft one plant onto the other and create a new type of plant. And that’s an even rarer specialty.” Leif sobered.

“How rare?”

The mulish set to Leif’s jaw meant he wouldn’t answer without more prompting. “How many people can do it?” Valek asked.

“A few,” Leif hedged.

“Two,” Yelena said.

Leif shot her a nasty look.

“Do you know their names?” he asked.

“Our cousin Nutty Palm Zaltana, and our Councilman, Bavol Cacao Zaltana.”

3

LEIF

Anger boiled. Leif shot from his chair. “There’s no way either of them is involved with Owen!”

“Probably not directly,” Yelena, his traitor of a sister, said.

“Not at all. They both know how dangerous Curare is.” And Leif wasn’t going to let anyone cast suspicion on them.

“All right, then prove it,” Valek said. “Rule them out of the equation and we’ll look elsewhere.”

Except all the experts were fellow Zaltanas. His appetite gone, Leif pushed his plate away.

Janco chimed in between spoonfuls of eggs. “It should be easy to do with your lie-detecting mojo.”

A queasy expression pinched Yelena’s face. “He can’t use it unless he has reason to believe they’ve committed a crime. It violates the Magician’s Ethical Code.”

“They follow a code of ethics?” Janco asked in surprise.

“You should know about it,” Yelena said.

“Oh, I know about it. I just figured they all ignored it.”

“Because, according to you, they’re all evil and corrupt?”

“Not all. There are a couple exceptions.” Janco inclined his head, indicating her and Leif. “I assumed they ignored it because it’s what I’d do if I had magic.”

“How do you know you don’t have magic?” Onora asked, speaking for the first time that morning.

“I don’t have magic.” Janco huffed.

“But you can sense it.”

“And you can sense the cold air, but that doesn’t make you a snowman...er...woman.”

As they argued over the definition of a magician, Leif collected the empty plates, stacking them in the sink. The thought of interrogating his family sat heavily in his stomach. Maybe a casual visit would work. But then his certainty of Bavol’s innocence faded. He remembered how Bavol had dodged their questions when he and Yelena had visited. The man had lied to them, but at the time, Leif had thought it was regarding the Council’s knowledge of Yelena’s blocked magic.

After everyone finished eating, Leif followed them to the stables. The sun poked from the horizon. Cold air bit through his tunic. He handed Yelena a pouch full of herbal medicines with instructions on how to use them.

She raised an eyebrow at the unexpected weight.

“Just in case you run into trouble,” he said.

“I’m traveling with two assassins and a master swordsman. How much trouble do you think we’ll get in?”

He gave her a flat look.

“Yeah, okay.” She hefted the pouch. “Feels about right.” Yelena opened it. “Did you include the ginger tea that helps with nausea?”

“There are a few bags. Why? Are you still feeling sick?”

“Oh, no. Not at all.” She tucked the medicines in her saddlebag.

The faint scent of licorice swirled around her. His magic mojo—as Janco called it—sensed she was hiding something. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m healthy.”

The sweet smell of truth. “Good. Although you might need that tea after it’s Janco’s turn to cook.”

“I heard that,” Janco called. He swung up into Beach Bunny’s saddle and shot Onora a triumphant expression.

The quiet woman merely ignored Janco’s posturing as she saddled The Madam. Kiki stood head to head with Rusalka, who remained in her stall. Her body language made it quite clear she wanted to go with Kiki and the others. Leif stroked her neck and fed her a peppermint.