Chapter Twenty-Six
Kriss’s captors carried him to a dark warehouse at the edge of the field, through a creaking door and into a musty room, empty except for a few broken crates. They dumped him on the floor, then closed the door and turned on the lights.
One of the men was bald and middle-aged, the other young and bearded. Neither was the man who had been following Kriss for a week, but he assumed that was who had chased him into the trap. “Where’s Vorlick?” he demanded as soon as the younger man undid his gag.
“Who’s Vorlick?”
“The man you work for!”
“Never heard of him,” said the bald man.
Kriss struggled upright and glared at him. “You expect me to believe that?”
The bald man shrugged. “Don’t really care.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
“What we’re being paid to.” He looke
