He paused. She appeared to blend in with the gray stones and brown earth that had collected in the nooks of the rock face. Janco glanced away and rubbed the back of his neck. Lack of sleep could do strange things to a guy. He turned to assess her line of vision so he didn’t watch the same patch of forest. Except she’d disappeared.

“Get going before someone shows up.” Her voice sounded above his head.

Holy snow cats! Did she...? Was she...? He stepped closer to the cave’s entrance, expecting his scar to burn. It didn’t. Maybe the illusion’s magic covered her power. He rubbed the spot as he considered.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Uh, just checking something.” Janco poked his head into the cave as if it contained all the answers. It didn’t. Unless darkness had something to do with the mystery of Onora. Perhaps it did. Perhaps—

“Janco.”

Her irritation snapped him from his thoughts. “All right, I’m going.” He braced for the pain as he crossed the illusion. It flared to life, stabbing into his head. Janco kept walking until the intense stinging dulled to a tolerable level. Then he found a place to hide.

His thoughts circled back to Onora. In all their time together, Janco had never felt that creepy crawly sensation along his skin, which he’d learned meant magic was in use but not directed at him. Hard to describe. It was like hearing an echo.

She could be one of those One-Trick Wonders who had enough magic to do only one single thing like light a fire or spot a liar. Hey, that rhymed—he’d have to remember that for later. Perhaps her power was blending in with her surroundings like a chameleon. No wonder she’d reached the Commander and escaped the dungeon. For an assassin to have that ability...was pretty sweet! Of course, he could be way off base. The pain from the illusion might have screwed with his vision.

But as he waited for...well, anything at this point. Talk about bored. Janco remembered the times he and Onora had encountered a patrol and she’d melted into the forest. The creepy crawlies hadn’t attacked him then, but her ability to disappear seemed...off. He decided to not jump to conclusions—Ari would be proud—and keep an eye on Little Miss Assassin, see if she had any more tricks.

The day dragged, limping toward twilight. Janco’s stiff muscles complained about the inactivity. His stomach growled. Wonderful. He’d wait until full dark and then take a break. After all, a man had to eat and sleep and pee.

* * *

A rumbling creak woke him from a light doze. Darkness surrounded him. It took him a moment to orient himself—Snake Forest—on lookout—with Onora. Check.

A harness jingled and the thud of horse hooves on the ground vibrated under him. Soon two wagon teams rolled into view. The figures sitting on the benches didn’t have a lantern, but there was enough moonlight to discern big obstacles like trees. Besides, most horses just needed to be pointed down a trail. They instinctively followed the cleared path.

As they passed his hiding spot, Janco noticed a burlap blanket covering the lumpy contents of the wagon. Intrigued, he followed the wagons as they neared the illusion then slowed.

“Where’s that damn cave?” one man asked. “Did we miss it?”

“No, it’s a little further,” his companion said.

“Just stop here,” a woman called from the second wagon. “The horses get too skittish if we get closer. Mattison will meet us.”

They unhitched the horses and fed and watered them. They appeared to be waiting for this Mattison. Too curious to stay put, Janco crept up behind the second wagon, noting the long and narrow bed. He lifted the blanket, revealing barrels. Words had been burned into the oak, but it was too dark to read them.

A bright yellow glow pierced the illusion, momentarily blinding him. Three huge men carried torches and pulled a small cart. Another set of three big brutes emerged, but they didn’t tow anything. All six men wore some type of leather harness.

The two groups merged. Janco slipped back into the forest while they were distracted.

“Anyone follow you?” one of the big brutes asked.

“You kidding? No one’s around for miles,” the wagon leader said. “How much did you get?”

“Six golds a barrel.”

“Next time ask for eight. It’s getting harder to smuggle this stuff out. Valek’s got his dogs sniffing around.”

An indignant huff sounded next to Janco. He jumped and clamped down on a cry.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he whispered to Onora.

“Assassin, remember?”

“But I’m on your side.”

She shrugged. “Habit.”

“Did you see what’s in the cart from the cave?” he asked.

“Yes. A few small barrels.”

They watched the smugglers as they hitched one wagon to the three big men, attaching the chains to their harnesses, and then they hooked up the other three with the other wagon. Odd. Why not use the horses?

“I’m going to crawl under the burlap on that second wagon,” Onora whispered. “You track the cart and see where it goes. We’ll meet back here once we learn what’s going on.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she disappeared. While the others were distracted hooking up the men and horses, the blanket rippled and the wagon creaked under the additional weight. No one but Janco noticed.

After they finished, the smugglers made arrangements for another meeting, then headed in opposite directions. The horses pulled the cart from the cave back into the forest, and the men lugged the two wagons toward the cave.