He led Ari and the girl down an uneven sidewalk. Weeds grew between the cracks and glass crunched under his boots. The broken windows had been boarded over and the houses appeared to have been abandoned and left to squatters.
“I don’t think you’ll find this area listed in the guide book,” Ari said.
“It’s a little-known spot that should remain little-known,” Janco agreed. Plus it hurt his scar. The pain increased, then lessened after he walked past a run-down shack. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What’s wrong?” Ari asked.
“The complete and utter lack of creativity. That shack is an illusion.”
“Okay, let’s go.” Ari yanked his scimitar and charged toward it.
Janco stepped in front of him. “Hold on. We don’t know what’s on the other side. And it might trigger an alarm.” He paused as he realized he was being the sensible one. How about that? There was a first time for everything. Janco herded them back to the courtyard and out of sight. “Spider Girl, go fetch Fisk and as many of his minions as you can. Pronto!”
She flipped him the finger, but scurried away.
“Now what?” Ari asked.
“The illusion is hiding another building, so we case the joint. See if there are any other entrances. These houses are all jumbled together. They have to be connected.”
“All right. I’ll loop around back and you take the roof.”
Janco eyed the sagging rooftops—some peaked, others flat. “If you hear a tremendous crash, that would be me falling through the shingles.”
Ari didn’t bother to reply. He slipped around the row of houses without making a sound. Janco sighed and studied the closest dwelling. The drainpipe looked sketchy, and the wooden siding bowed outward as if the house had been stuffed full. The corner of the building might be okay to climb up, as long as the nails hadn’t rusted through.
A skittery feeling brushed his back. Janco spun around, searching for the cause. The courtyard was empty. He scanned the windows, but no one watched him. However, he couldn’t shake the certainty that someone or something had a keen interest in him. Ignoring the strangeness, he scaled the two-story structure and reached the roof.
Keeping low and testing each step before he put his full weight on it, he headed toward the shack. A number of squeals, squeaks and groans followed his progress. He wondered if any of the residents would investigate the noises or if they’d think it’d be safer to remain indoors. In this neighborhood, he guessed they’d stay inside.
As he drew closer, the quality of the roofs changed. The timber beneath his boots no longer dipped with his weight. The outer layer still resembled a patchwork, but the foundation was strong. His scar tweaked with pain just as he reached a smooth, flat roof with two skylights—quite a surprise.
Janco tiptoed closer, then laid flat on his stomach to peek inside. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darker interior. He clamped down on a shout. Yelena lay on a couch below. She appeared to be sleeping, or maybe paralyzed by Curare. Janco fervently hoped it was one of those two, and that she wasn’t dead. Before he could move, four men arrived. They carried a wooden crate with them, and then they lifted Yelena and packed her inside it, as if she were a piece of furniture!
He stared in shock as they wheeled the box from the room.
Must. Follow. Box.
* * *
Janco had no memory of his trip back to the courtyard.
“Slow down, you’re not making any sense,” Ari said. “What’s this about a box?”
Fisk and his minions arrived.
Janco explained what had happened. “We need to find that box. Spread out and search.”
“Won’t work,” Fisk said. “This place is a labyrinth, and if you know the layout, you can get from one end to the other without being seen. If she’s in a box, then they’re not planning on keeping her here.”
“Which means they’re probably putting her on a wagon along with other goods to smuggle her from the Citadel,” Ari said.
“The west gate,” Janco said. “It’s the closest.”
“And the most obvious,” Fisk said.
“But they don’t know I know.” Janco thumped his chest.
“Good point. Fisk, can you show us the shortest way to the gate?”
“Of course.” He gave orders to a couple of his minions and then took off at a jog.
“What if we’re too late?” Janco asked, keeping pace with Ari. “Or we don’t spot it? There was nothing remarkable about that particular box.”
“Think positive.”
They reached the gate after two lifetimes. Fisk told them to wait while he bribed the guards to let him look at the logbook. Janco fidgeted, unable to endure even a few seconds of delay.
When Fisk returned, he said, “No wagons have left this afternoon. I sent my people to watch the north and south gates while we keep an eye on this one.”
The three of them split up so they covered all possible angles. Fisk took the high ground to look down into the wagons. Ari was stationed outside the gate. And Janco waited in the shadow of the guardhouse. If a covered wagon arrived, Janco would peek under the tarp before it left.
In the end, it wasn’t a box that tipped Janco off. It was the driver of the wagon. He just about fainted when he spotted Leif chatting with the gate guards. Stunned for a moment, Janco only had time to slip under the tarp before the wagon pulled away.