Again I ceased to listen to the debate. The strips of sunlight moved across the floor and climbed the opposite wall. When the light faded into a gray semigloom, the Council adjourned for the day. I was escorted to the holding cells in the basement of the Council Building. I laughed when they served me dinner. What else could I do? Cry? Scream? Rage against the injustice? No point. The reason for my humor was the wooden cup filled with water. No glass. No magic. No need to put me in the Keep’s special cells.
I tried not to compare this cell with all the others I had been in. Or with all the times I had been confined by ropes or chains. But my mind refused to obey me. My memories drifted back to when Alea had kidnapped me to get to Yelena. The Daviian wanted me to trick Yelena, so she used a masked Warper to coerce me into helping her. It worked. I would have done anything to make him stop. Imagine my horrified surprise when Devlen explained he had been the man behind the mask.
Shuddering, I forced my thoughts on more pleasant memories to survive the night.
As the Council’s discussions dragged on for days, I discovered one good thing about spending my evenings in the Council’s jail. I learned who supported and believed me. Mara’s encouragement hadn’t surprised me, but Pazia’s frequent visits did. She even testified on my behalf. A few of the glass-shop workers stopped to entertain me with tales of their efforts.
Zitora failed to visit and Yelena took her sweet time. She finally came by on the third day with Leif. I slid from my bunk, but she put her finger to her lips, then pointed to her ear.
Leif stared off in the distance for a moment. His short muscular build, square face and brown hair were the complete opposite of his sister. Striking green eyes were the only feature they had in common. “I blocked the snoops,” he said. “So how’s my favorite glass wizard?” he asked me.
“Peachy. I just love it here!” Sarcastic and bitter, I’d outdone myself. Of course, I regretted it as Leif jerked back like he’d been slapped. “Sorry,” I said.
Leif glanced at his sister. “This isn’t good for her. We should bust her out.”
I snapped. “Why would you do that? According to the Council, I’m a danger to myself and others. I’m just a poor, deluded, brainless girl who believed in the impossible, who—”
“Opal, that’s enough.” Yelena’s stern tone stopped my tirade. “I’ve talked to Kade and Janco. I believe you.”
“Then why haven’t you said—”
“Because we were outmaneuvered.”
“But you would know Devlen is in Ulrick’s body. Right?”
“I hope so.”
“Hope?” Not the answer I wanted to hear.
“It’s a unique situation, Opal, and there aren’t any other Soulfinders around that I can ask.”
True. “But you can vouch for me, testify that switching souls is possible?” The pained grimace answered my question.
“I can assure the Council of your integrity. Without Devlen or Ulrick here, I can’t swear they switched. I know you’re telling the truth, but the Council can argue that the men are very good actors and have tricked you.” Yelena flicked her long black braid over her shoulder.
“Couldn’t you read Zitora’s mind and tell the Council she’s lying?”
Leif made a strangled sound. “Accuse a Master Magician? Ho boy, you really need some fresh air.”
Yelena frowned at him. “I can’t read her mind. Her mental defenses are too strong for me. And if I rifled through Councilor Moon’s memories, it would be a major breach of the Ethical Code and I would be arrested.”
“What about reading their souls?” I asked.
An odd expression gripped Yelena’s face before she covered it. “Zitora felt she did the right thing. As for Tama, ever since her sister tried to overthrow her, she has hired a magician to cast a protective null shield around her when she’s in public.” She fidgeted with her sleeve. “The other Councilors believe it’s a wonderful idea and are in the process of doing the same. I have…mixed feelings about it.”
“A null shield is becoming a weapon like Curare,” Leif said. “Before the Warper battle, only the Sandseed Story Weavers knew how to create one. Now the knowledge is spreading.” He shrugged. “It’s smart to protect the Councilors from a magical attack, but, on the other hand, it can mask deceptions and be used against us.”
I agreed with Leif. In order for Sir to capture Kade, the strongest Stormdancer in Sitia, a null shield had been intertwined with a net. Yelena knew all the details, but she decided the Council should only be told Kade had been neutralized by a null shield. No sense giving anyone ideas.
“However…” Gazing down at her hands, Yelena laced them together.
Not a good sign. I braced for the bad news.
“However, the diamonds found in your saddlebags are the real problem.” She raised her head and leaned toward me. “You scare them more than I do.”
I laughed. At this point, what else could I do? If I looked on the bright side, I finally had done something better than Yelena. The fact it would keep me locked up didn’t stifle my manic mirth.
“Opal,” Yelena warned. “This is serious. They’re not picking on you. They have an excellent reason to be scared. Think about it from the Council’s point of view. Your ability to transform magic into glass is concerning, but Master Magician Zitora vouches for you. Then you disappear and claim you were tricked by blood magic and kidnapped to Ixia. The Council is distressed, and orders you to return so they can hear the whole story, but you run off to Fulgor.
“Now they’re alarmed. When Councilor Moon reports you have escaped and tells them about your new powers, they become frightened. Plus the fact you used the power without consulting them or without any due process. In their eyes, you have become unpredictable and unreliable. A rogue. Zitora can no longer vouch for you because if she didn’t know about your siphoning power, what else doesn’t she know. Why didn’t you tell her?”
No longer able to keep still, I paced. “I thought it would be better in person. I wanted to discuss it with her first. But now she’s avoiding me.”
“She’s keeping her distance in an effort to remain impartial.”
“Swell.”
“Opal, sarcasm will not help you,” Leif said. “I know.”
“Nothing will help me.”
Yelena moved closer to the bars. “Tomorrow you will be honest, you will be remorseful, you will be respectful, and you will abide by the Council’s decision no matter what. They need to see you are not a threat. They need to feel they can trust you.”
“Would you do all that?”
“I already have. If I can earn their trust, so can you.”
I slumped against the wall. My shoulder burned as fatigue settled over me. The task of gaining the Council’s trust felt equal to being ordered to climb over the Emerald Mountains. Impossible.
“It’s not impossible,” Yelena said.
“Reading my mind?”
“No. Your posture.”
“Now what?” I sank down to the floor. At least I had a clean cell. Amazing how the small things become important.
“We wait,” Yelena said. “It’s a trick I learned from Valek. Let them think we believe their story about Ulrick. Let them get comfortable and relax their defenses. All the while I’ll keep an eye on them and, hopefully, discover what they’re up to.”
“What about me?” I gestured to the bars between us.
“I think the Councilors are leaning toward letting you continue your work for the magicians. If that’s the case, you need to be on your best behavior, and you’ll need to pretend Ulrick fooled you. You’re not to tell anyone a different story, as they will have someone watching you.”
“How long do I have to pretend?” I asked.
“It may be seasons. I need to return to Ixia to help Kade convince the Commander to allow him to tame the blizzards. Don’t worry.” She held her hand up. “I’ll assign…someone to keep an eye on Councilor Moon and Devlen.” She studied my face. “You�
�ve been through worse. Just hold on and we’ll figure this one out.”
She glanced at the main door, then turned to me as if she had made a decision. “Irys will have a fit, but it’s cruel to let you suffer.” Yelena crouched and reached through the bars, pressing her hand on my injury.
“What—ow!”
Her magic held me immobile. Pain flared, then dulled to a throb, changing into a bone-deep itch. She pulled away and closed her eyes. Blood spread on her shoulder, soaking her tunic.
The door to the cells flew open. Master Jewelrose sprinted into the room followed by a bunch of guards.
Without opening her eyes, Yelena said, “Wait.”
Irys scowled, but kept quiet. When my mobility returned, I scratched my newly healed skin.
Yelena rolled her shoulders and met Irys’s unhappy gaze. “Her wound was infected.” Her statement sounded like a challenge.
My cell felt colder after they left. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders—part of a huge care package Mara had brought me. The whole Council session, being locked in a cell, the lies and backroom dealings had left a rancid taste in my mouth. I had trusted the Council, had believed Zitora would defend me, not betray me. Not anymore. Time to stop wallowing in pity and act. Time to trust no one and stop relying on others.
I reviewed Tama Moon’s comments about my glass messengers and leverage. Her advice didn’t strike me quite the same way this time. Before I thought them selfish. Perhaps I needed to be a little more selfish. I would wait and bide my time as Yelena requested, but I would also prepare. I’d proved to Devlen I wasn’t a doormat, and I would prove it to the Council, as well.
As Yelena had predicted, the Council released me with a number of conditions. I could craft my glass messengers, as long as another magician remained in the workshop. No experiments with my magic were allowed. I could leave the Magician’s Keep if I had permission and a Council-approved escort. In other words, I continued to be a prisoner, but without the bars. They kept my glass bees, spiders and the diamonds in my saddlebags. They returned my cloak and bags.
At least I wouldn’t be monitored by magic. With a null shield around me at all times, no magic could penetrate it. However, I would have escorts anytime I left my room. Swell.
The Council session had lasted six days. Yelena left for Ixia and said I should return to my studies. Except Zitora had taken me out of my classes so I could concentrate on the glass factory and experimenting with my powers.
It was the middle of the warming season. The Keep’s current session would finish at the end of the heating season—approximately one hundred and fifty days away. The time loomed over me like a prison sentence. Would I be allowed to graduate?
One way to find out. I dressed in my usual glassmaking clothes—a pair of brown pants and a plain khaki short-sleeved tunic. I wrapped a leather belt around my waist so the end of my shirt wouldn’t interfere with my work. Pulling on my worn leather boots, I smiled, remembering how they had filled with water when I tried to climb out on the sea rocks to talk to Kade.
After pulling my hair into a ponytail, I swung my cloak around my shoulders and paused. I wondered if the Council had inspected the garment before sending it back to me. Fingering the hem, I felt a line of odd-shaped bumps. Janco’s habit of sewing lock picks into all his clothes had given me an idea. I had hidden a handful of my diamonds and my glass spiders in my cloak.
I debated removing them and hiding them in my rooms, but decided to keep them in place for now. Working up the nerve, I headed toward Zitora’s office, ignoring the man shadowing me. Even though Zitora had avoided me throughout the Council’s interrogation, she remained my mentor.
A few students hustled along the Keep’s walkways. The cold morning air blew through the campus as if the temperature held no regard for the time of year. I entered the Keep’s administration building and dodged the surprised and suspicious glances cast my way.
Zitora’s office was located on the second floor. I raised my hand to knock on her door, but it swung open. First Magician Bain Bloodgood hustled out.
“Come, child, we have much to discuss.” He linked his arm in mine and led me down the hallway at a fast pace.
I glanced back. Zitora’s office door clicked shut. The sound mimicked the tight feeling in my chest. When I almost stumbled on his navy robe, my attention returned to the First Magician.
“Master Bloodgood, why—”
“Not out here.” He pushed open his door and ushered me into his office. All the Master Magicians had an office in the administration building.
The room smelled of parchment and ink. Bookshelves covered all the walls. He cleaned off a chair, adding more height to the mountains of files and texts on the floor.
“Sit down.” Bain settled behind his desk. Small metal contraptions littered the surface and dark ink stained the wood. He peered at a slip of paper. “You have completed four years of course work, but your studies have been interrupted this year.”
“I was helping—”
“In order for you to graduate, you need to finish the apprentice’s curriculum.”
“But Master Cowan said—”
“Opal.” His voice warned me to keep quiet. “I’m well aware of your special arrangements with Zitora. However, she is no longer directing your education. I am.” He handed me the paper. “You will start tomorrow morning.”
I scanned the schedule of classes. Two in the morning, two in the afternoon and a session in the evenings with Master Bloodgood followed by one hour in the glass shop.
“Any questions?”
About a thousand, but I swallowed most of them. “Why isn’t Master Cowan my mentor anymore?”
“She does not have enough experience to handle your…unique situation. Anything else?”
I tapped the paper on my leg. “I already attended Magical Ethics and Famous and Infamous Magicians Throughout History.”
“Consider it a refresher.”
His words stung like a hard slap on the wrist. I studied his expression, searching for the real reason. His gray eyes showed nothing but polite interest. A stark contrast to his wild hair. Of all the Master Magicians, Bloodgood, with his long, flowing robes and lack of concern over his personal grooming, matched my imagination for someone with a Master title.
“I will see you tomorrow evening.” Bain dismissed me.
Remembering my promise to Yelena, I nodded and left. Without conscious thought I arrived at the glass shop, only to be stopped by a Keep’s guard stationed next to the door.
“Sorry, miss, you’re not allowed inside without a…companion,” the man said. He fingered the hilt of his weapon and glanced about as if nervous.
Scared of me? I suppressed a laugh, knowing if I let it go, the humor would transform into sobs. “I’m not going to work with the glass. I just want to talk to my sister.”
“Sorry. No.” The young man puffed up his chest as if expecting a fight.
“Can you tell her I’m here?”
He deflated. “Er…I guess. Don’t move.” Opening the door, he leaned in and called for Mara, then resumed his position.
Mara hustled out. “For sand’s sake, why don’t you just come in? I have a vase on the rod.”
“The General here won’t let me.” I pointed to the guard.
She balled her skirt in her fists, heating up to blast the poor man.
“It’s not his fault,” I said before she could let loose. “He’s following orders. Can you stop by my rooms when you’re done for the day?”
Aiming a tight nod at me, she returned to the glass shop. An afternoon without plans loomed. Freedom…sort of. After taking a few moments to decide, I walked toward the stable.
Quartz’s delighted whinny banished the dark cloud around me. I tossed my cloak over a stall door and immersed myself in the simple pleasure of grooming her. When her coat gleamed, I hopped onto her back and practiced riding her without saddle, reins and bridle.
The midday sun warmed the air. We tr
otted in the training ring, doing figure eights. Remembering our close escape in Ognap, I steered her with my knees toward a series of low wooden barriers. Her muscles bunched under me as she skipped over the hurdles, landing with nary a bump. The next set of obstacles was two feet higher than the first.
Quartz flew over them with ease. I matched the rhythm of her gait, moving my body with hers. The power from her muscles soaked into me and I felt as if we no longer existed as two separate beings.
We turned to the last series of jumps. About six feet high, the four barriers seemed a mere nuisance to our heightened senses. We increased our pace and launched, landed, took four more strides, then another jump. Losing track of the time, we circled the ring until fatigue broke us apart and we returned to horse and rider. I dismounted and we walked a few more laps so she could cool down.
She matched my pace, her soft steps in the dirt the only sound. The Stable Master leaned on a fence post, watching us in silence.
Back at the stable, I rubbed her down as the Stable Master ran his hand along her legs, checking for hot spots.
“You found the zone,” he said. “That state where you and Quartz united and became one. Makes up for all those hours of shoveling horse manure. Doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Does it only happen when riding bareback?”
“Bareback helps. Physical contact is important. You can find the zone when using a saddle, but it’s much harder.” He fed Quartz a milk oat. “She’s a good jumper with strong legs. You were flying over those expert hurdles after only a short warm-up.” He scratched behind her ears and she closed her eyes with a grunt of bliss. “I was going to yell at you to stop, but it was fun seeing you take on those jumps.”
When the Stable Master left, I returned Quartz to her stall. Empty of students, the stable’s earthy scent and peaceful atmosphere beckoned, increasing my desire to find a hay bale and sit. But my past adventures had exposed all my weaknesses, so I searched for the Weapons Master.
I found Captain Marrok in the armory, sharpening swords. Waiting for him to finish, I examined the various weapons hanging on the walls and stacked on tables—an impressive collection. I fingered the hilt of a switchblade. My sais worked well for defense, but they couldn’t be hidden. I needed a smaller offensive weapon.
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