“There should be a...gardener around here,” Jax said. “I think.”

“We need to head back for another job,” Tex said. “You folks okay with finding your own way from here? We’re not in the plains.” Concern creased his brow.

Genuine? Or a hell of a good actor? “Yes, thank you. Sandseed horses have an excellent sense of direction regardless of location,” I said.

Valek paid Tex a generous sum. The man flashed him a grateful smile and headed back with his brother right behind him.

Janco rubbed his goatee, frowning. “Does anyone else think that’s odd?”

“What’s odd?” Valek asked.

“Those guys. They were...”

“Nice,” I finished for him. “Don’t tell me you’ve never met friendly people before.”

“Not in my line of work. Who wants to bet me that there’s an ambush waiting for us below?” Janco gestured to the valley.

“Do you sense any magic?” Valek asked.

“No, but we’re pretty far. You?”

“Nothing.”

A pang touched my chest. If I still had my magic, we’d know for sure if this was a trap.

“How do you want to proceed?” Onora asked Valek.

“You and Janco cut through the woods on the left side, check for any unfriendlies. I’ll check right. Meet back here.” Valek dismounted.

“And what about me?” I asked.

“Stay with the horses.”

Red-hot anger flared. “Kiki can stay with the horses. I’m coming with you.” I didn’t wait for his permission. I swung down from Kiki’s back, removed my cloak and yanked my bo staff from its holder on her saddle.

Valek studied me and I prepared for an argument. Instead he nodded. “Let’s go.” He untied his gray short cape and slung it over Onyx’s saddle.

Onora and Janco melted into the woods, and I followed Valek. He wore Sitian clothes—a plain tan tunic and brown pants that blended with the surrounding forest. The trees and bushes remained bare of leaves, but a few buds dotted a number of branches, promising warmer days ahead.

Valek traveled through the underbrush without making a sound, his movements graceful and balanced like an acrobat’s. I rustled behind him. My woodland skills had grown rusty with neglect. No need to slink about the woods when I’d already known exactly what creatures lurked inside. Since I could no longer rely on magic, I suspected many hours of training would be in my future.

Using hand signals, Valek communicated when to stop, wait and go. We encountered no one, and didn’t see tracks, broken branches or any other sign that another person had been here.

We returned to the horses and, soon after, Janco and Onora reported the same thing—no ambushers. Mounting our horses, we rode down into the valley. As we neared, Valek asked Janco if he sensed a magical illusion.

“No. I’ll let you know if I do,” Janco said.

Valek stopped us about fifty feet from the barn. He signaled for us to wait, dismounted and circled the buildings. I peered at the glass house. No condensation coated the panes and no greenery pressed against the sides. From this angle, it appeared to be empty.

When he reappeared he said, “No signs of activity anywhere and the barn door is locked.”

“Let me,” Janco said with a grin. He jumped off Beach Bunny and hurried toward the barn.

“He does know we can all pick a lock, right?” I asked Valek. Janco had taught me the art, and my set of picks held my hair up in an intricate knot.

“This one’s a swivel.” Valek drew his sword. “Come on.”

Onora and I followed him around the building. Janco knelt next to an oversize door, working on a shiny new padlock. We waited behind him until he made a small sound of triumph. He removed the lock and glanced at Valek, who signaled him to open the door.

Janco yanked it open with a whoosh. We braced for an attack, but nothing happened. Instead a foul odor wafted from the entrance—the unmistakable rancid smell of death.

With a grim expression, Valek ventured inside. After a moment, he returned. “It’s safe.”

Covering our noses with our shirts, we filed in. From the overturned chairs and scattered trash, it appeared as if they’d left in a hurry. Valek crouched by the body of a man whose throat had been sliced open.

“The gardener?” I asked.

“Probably. He has dirt under his nails. No defensive wounds, which means he knew his attacker.”

“Or he was trapped by magic,” Janco said. “How long has he been dead?”

“Three or four days.” Valek straightened. “Take a look around. See if they missed anything.”

We spread out. A small bed and night table lined the far wall. Gardening tools hung near the door. I poked at the ashy remains of the fire, uncovering a half-burned parchment. Fishing it from the pile, I smoothed it flat, revealing a picture of a hobet plant, along with instructions for its care.

My shirt slipped down and the putrid smell filled my nose. It flipped the contents of my stomach and I bolted for the door. Once I reached clean air, the need to vomit slowly disappeared. Shivering with the cold, I retrieved my cloak from Kiki. Once ensconced in its warmth, I strode to the glass house. I peered through the clear walls. Leaves and broken stems littered the dirt floor. It appeared as if plants had been wrenched out by their roots. I spotted something white in the middle of the mess.

Wagon wheel tracks lined up next to the entrance. I guessed they’d loaded everything up that had been in the glass house and didn’t bother to lock up. The knob turned with ease and I entered. The air was colder inside. Boot prints marked the muddy spots.