(Glass #3) Spy Glass

by Maria V. Snyder

  “But—”

  “No chance. Before the addiction fueled my desire, I wanted to be powerful and to reach the highest level of the Kirakawa ritual. This time, I’m able to separate the addiction from my desire. While I give in to the physical need for the magic, my love for you has not allowed it to change who I am. Does that make sense?”

  I turned to him. “A little.” But did I love him? With our history, could I? A year and a half ago, he had kidnapped and tortured me, all for blood magic. I understood the addiction, but would I go to those lengths to obtain relief? No. Because, like Devlen now, I had separated the addiction from my own desires. My worry about being addicted before all this was laughable.

  My sister’s question from long ago echoed in my mind. What do you regret?

  Devlen was a different man than the one who hurt me. I’d known it in my head, but my heart had been slower to accept it. And after we left this cave, I wouldn’t have another chance to show him how I feel.

  “One question,” I said.

  “Anything.”

  “What do the battle symbols on my switchblade mean?”

  “Didn’t Janco tell you?” he asked.

  “No. He turned red, sputtered some excuse and bolted.”

  “Sounds like Janco.”

  “Tell me.”

  “The symbols are a vow. They say, I offer my heart, entrust my soul and give my life to you.”

  I reached up and cupped his face. His hair hung loose and it fell forward when I drew him closer to me. A hopeful joy shone in his eyes as our lips met. Long-suppressed desire for him burst through all my doubts, worries and fears. I deepened the kiss.

  He held me and I wrapped my arms around his neck. But I needed to feel his skin against mine. I pulled at his shirt. He broke off the kiss, stopping me.

  “Opal, I endeavor to earn your forgiveness. This is more than I ever hoped for. I do not deserve—”

  I placed my fingers on his lips. “Shhh. We don’t have much time and I don’t want to waste it talking. Now, where were we?” Yanking off his shirt, I ran my hands over his torso and around his back.

  His mouth sought mine and soon I had my wish. Skin against skin.

  27

  WRAPPED IN DEVLEN’S ARMS, OUR CONNECTION RAN deeper than any magical bond. The past hour an amazing reprieve from my fear and dread over this evening’s activities.

  We untangled to dress, which, in the small cavern, was harder than getting undressed. After one last kiss, Devlen’s smile faded into a sad determination.

  “We’ll get through this,” he said, squeezing my hand.

  “I’ll drain your magic and then you run away. I don’t want to be forced to hurt you.”

  “I’m not leaving.” He poked his head outside, checking for guards. “All clear. Come on.”

  We climbed out on the rocks and headed toward the buildings. When one of the searchers spotted us, Devlen grabbed my arm as if he dragged me along.

  “Remember you hate me,” he whispered as a bunch of Walsh’s guards rushed over.

  I struggled to break his hold, glaring at him. The men escorted us to Galen. He had been given an office in Walsh’s building. His fury over my game of hide-and-seek rolled off him.

  “Where was she?” he asked Devlen.

  “Hiding in the rocks out on the point.” Devlen released his hold. “Her clothes blended in with them, but she can’t hide from me.” He sneered. “I know all her tricks.”

  I shot him a nasty look and cocked a foot to kick him.

  “Stop,” Galen said. His anger eased toward amusement. “Opal, you will not hide from us again. That’s an order.” Then to the guards, “Take her to the hut for the cleansing ritual.”

  They pulled me away, but as we reached the door, Galen called for us to wait. When he approached, I knew by the sick little smile twisting his lips that this wouldn’t be good.

  “I almost forgot,” he said. “Opal, remove the barrier shielding your emotions from me now. I wish to know exactly what you’re feeling during the biggest night of your life.”

  The glass wall disintegrated in an instant. I blasted pure hatred at him, but he chuckled. “Love you, too.”

  The bamboo hut resembled one of the cottages, except it was bigger and only contained one room. Four women waited for me. They wore identical sleeveless white dresses that hung to the sand. Their hair had been tucked up into white scarves. No shoes on their feet and no softness in their faces. Their eyes held no spark.

  The guards left me standing in the threshold, secure in the knowledge that Galen had ordered me to comply with these women. They resembled each other enough for me to guess that three of them were sisters and the older woman was their mother.

  I scanned the room. Certain items, like the two posts with leather straps in the middle of the room sent queasy warning signals through my body. A large tub of water filled one corner and buckets, sponges and cleaning supplies leaned against the side wall. Despite the heat, a fire burned in the small hearth.

  The mother took charge. She closed the door and ordered me to strip. As I peeled off my clothes, the girls tossed them into the fire. I watched the flames consume the fabric.

  “Eat this,” Mother said.

  She handed me a wad of slimy green seaweed.

  “All of it. Now.”

  I almost gagged at the taste of rotten vegetables and briny goo mixed with the gritty crunch of sand. It made me appreciate Leif’s healing concoctions. They were mild in comparison. As soon as I swallowed, my body flushed with heat. Sweat beaded on every inch of my skin. The hut tilted as my head spun. The girls led me to a bed covered with towels.

  They ignored my requests for water. I understood the need for towels as sweat gushed from my body. When it finally stopped, Mother gave me a brown leaf to chew. It tasted like paper and flakes stuck to my tongue. It was also difficult to swallow with a dry mouth.

  The girls hovered around me holding buckets. After a few minutes, I found out why. My stomach reacted violently to the leaf, expelling its contents in painful bouts over one of the buckets. I only had a few seconds of peace before cramps hit my guts and I quickly sat on another bucket.

  No dignity during the cleansing ritual, which seemed to have no end. I would have loved to spit out the purple flower Mother shoved in my mouth, but Galen’s command forced me to chew and swallow. Burning pain stabbed deep inside me. I bent over as spasms seized my lower abdomen.

  When blood poured from between my legs, I panicked.

  Mother held me down and shushed me. “No lasting harm,” she said. “It’s to cleanse out a baby that might be growing. Master Walsh only wants his baby to grow inside you.”

  Eventually the pain subsided and the girls helped clean me.

  “Answer me honestly,” Mother said. “Have you taken moon potion in the last year?”

  “Yes. Why didn’t you ask me before you gave me that flower?”

  “Moon potion is not a hundred percent effective. How many years have you taken it?”

  “Two.”

  While she measured out a silver powder, I cursed Galen a thousand times. Moon potion prevented a woman from getting pregnant. One dose lasted a year. However, if you wanted to have a child before the year was up, a dose of starlight would neutralize the protection.

  Mother mixed starlight with water and handed it to me. “Drink it. That is fresh water pumped from under our home.”

  Then she fed me fruits and vegetables grown in the Bloodroses’ compound. I made the connection between purging all that I may have imbibed before coming here and replenishing it with substances from the clan.

  My hope of being finished after the meal died when the girls strapped my wrists and ankles to the two posts in the middle of the room. My vulnerable position reminded me of my time at the prison.

  Rustling sounded behind me; I craned my neck around. Mother held long strands of dried seaweed. She cocked her arm.

  “Wait,” I said. “What’s left to cleanse?�
��

  “Blood.”

  “But—”

  She whipped me with the seaweed, leaving behind lines of stinging pain across my back and the back of my legs. When she moved to do my front side, I yelped more from surprise. My skin was extra sensitive on my chest. The seaweed sliced thin cuts and blood welled from the rows. After all I had been through, the wounds felt minor.

  It was over as quick as it had started. The girls released me, but my relief didn’t stay for long. The girls’ grim frowns warned me a second before they seized my arms and legs. Lifting me off the floor, they carried me over to the tub. Time to wash the blood off. But why did they brace themselves for trouble?

  They dunked me in the tub and held me underwater. Every single cut blazed. Salt water! I struggled to sit up as the searing pain dug into me and set my whole body on fire. Keeping firm pressure on my shoulders and hips, the girls wouldn’t let go.

  The ache in my lungs soon eclipsed my burning skin. This couldn’t be a part of the ritual. I gathered magic to me, but released it back into the power blanket when my brain caught up. Acceptance was a part of this custom. Relaxing as much as possible for a drowning victim, I stopped fighting. Five heartbeats later, they let go.

  I broke the surface sputtering and gasping for air. The three girls wouldn’t meet my furious glare, but Mother had no qualms.

  Her unflappable manner remained the same. “You are clean,” she said. “Here.” She handed me a white shift just like the one she wore. “Get dressed.”

  “Undergarments?”

  “Not for you.”

  Better than nothing. I pulled it on. The dress dragged on the sand.

  Mother stepped to me. “My single piece of advice. Obey Master Walsh. He has a bad temper. Remember the pain you felt in the tub?”

  “Yes.”

  “Imagine being whipped with leather and then submerged in salt water on a daily basis for a season. Master Walsh calls that pepper and salt, and that is just one of the punishments he hands out to those who upset him,” Mother said. “Your presence has caused us trouble. See my beautiful daughters?” She stabbed a thick finger at them.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want them to suffer because of you.”

  As one of the girls pulled my hair up and wrapped it into a white scarf, Mother applied a colored paste to my eyelids.

  Mother said, “We won’t be attending the ceremony. We’ll be in our cottage so we stay out of trouble. I don’t want my girls involved.”

  A couple clues snapped together, and I guessed the reason Devlen had said I needed to be at the bonfire.

  “Yet you’ll allow your girls to marry Walsh when it’s their turn. You’ll allow them to be his slaves. You’ll allow them to risk their lives diving for oysters or mining diamonds.”

  “You know nothing about it. You’re not even a mother.”

  I imagined raising Reema and Teegan in this place and a whole new fury burned inside me. “You are doing more to harm your daughters than I ever will. That is how Walsh is able to control all of you with so few armed guards. You’re terrified!”

  “He’s a powerful magician. And now this Galen is giving orders, and you.” She jabbed my arm. “Galen’s slave. Quinn is young and inexperienced and foolish. How can he counter three magicians?”

  “He can’t. That’s why he needs you.” I surprised her. Score one for the new girl.

  “I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can. Who is serving the clams tonight?”

  Confused, she cast about for the answer. “One of the cooks…Miranda or Lilian.”

  “Friends of yours?”

  “Sort of. We don’t form close attachments.”

  “Which just helps Walsh all the more.” I shook my head. “Here’s how you can help. Give some of that brown leaf stuff to Miranda and ask her to mix it in Walsh’s, Galen’s and my food. We can’t do any magic while we’re throwing up.”

  “But only temporarily.” She snagged her lower lip with her teeth.

  “Are you good with plants? Is there another leaf or root that would incapacitate us for a longer period?”

  Fear and uncertainty flared in her eyes. “There’s beach root. It causes a horrible stomachache for a few hours.”

  “Do you have any sleeping potions?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Then use the beach root if you can. See? It takes everyone helping, otherwise we won’t be successful.”

  “We? What can you do?” she asked.

  “My usual. Cause trouble. But first, I need a few things.”

  She chewed on her lip. “Things?”

  I smiled. “Undergarments and pants for starters.”

  “Hurry,” one of the girls called. “He’s coming!”

  Adding a scarf around my shoulders, I turned in a circle with my arms out. “Well?” I still wore the shift.

  Mother inspected me with a critical eye. “It’ll do for now. Don’t let him rub against you.”

  I shuddered at the image. “That is always my intention.”

  When the door swept open and Walsh entered, we all held our breaths.

  “Is my bride ready?” he asked Mother.

  She nodded and I remembered to breathe.

  He held out his hand, and I grabbed it before he could notice how nervous the women were. We walked through the compound hand in hand. The sun dipped into the horizon as fingers of thick fog stroked the shore.

  “It was nice of you to escort me,” I said. A few of his men followed us at a distance. Both Walsh and Galen had an armed escort at all times.

  “It’s to ensure no one…harms you before the ceremony. Some of my wives get jealous.”

  I’d bet, but he had given me a perfect opening. “I would think you’d be more worried about Galen.”

  “Why?”

  Gotcha. Now I had to tread through the loopholes with care. “Galen has Devlen now.”

  He frowned. “So? Devlen knows quite a bit about blood magic.”

  I cringed. “Did they tell you how addictive it is?”

  “Of course. I’ve seen it for myself.”

  “Last time Devlen’s addiction consumed him, he wasn’t content to wait for others. He’s clever and intelligent. Unparalleled with a sword…” I let the information sink in.

  Walsh stopped. “Is Galen planning to double-cross me?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Even if I order you to?”

  “Not even then.”

  He dismissed my concerns. “I have my guards, my clan members and my own considerable magic. There are only two of them.”

  “Three of us.”

  Alarm filled his thin face. In the twilight he resembled a ghost. “Why are you warning me?”

  “I hate Galen and Devlen. If you kill them, I would consider it a perfect wedding present.”

  He laughed with a harsh bark. “Nice try. I almost fell for it.”

  Shoot. Time for a different angle. I silently thanked Mother and shrugged. “As long as you don’t mind sharing me.”

  “What do you mean?” he demanded, yanking me close. “You’ve been ordered to my bed every night.”

  “And to Galen’s every day.” I rubbed my belly. “I wonder who will give me a baby first?”

  “You’re lying. Galen loathes you. He would never take you to his bed.” Walsh considered. “You shouldn’t be able to lie to me. He assured me of your cooperation.” His hard eyes bored into me. “Kneel.”

  Since I wasn’t in his bedroom and this had nothing to do with the ceremony, I remained on my feet.

  He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Did he order you to obey me?”

  Magic blocked me from answering, but he already figured it out.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Walsh didn’t waste time. “Take her to the bonfire, I’ll be there shortly,” he ordered one of his guards.

  As the guard marched me to the beach, I hoped I hadn’t ruined anything Quinn might be planning by tipping Wals
h off to Galen’s deceit. If Galen had been tired of playing in Vasko’s sandbox, he’d never put himself in the same position again.

  On the beach, bright flames as tall as a man pulsed and flickered. A pit had been dug in the sand and the pile of driftwood snapped and popped. The firelight illuminated the fog, creating a fuzzy softness around the bonfire. Clan members had brought blankets to sit on. A few kids played in the gentle waves and others made sand castles. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was a large family picnic.

  A dais had been set up with three ornate chairs. Purple silk screens boxed in the dais on three sides, leaving the one facing the sea open. My guard led me to the chair on the left.

  “Sit,” he said, before taking up position nearby.

  From this position, I spotted a couple tables filled with food and more armed guards patrolling the perimeter. Not all the clan members had come, and I remembered what Mother had said about staying in their cottage. A breeze blew onshore, pushing the fog in thickening swells. One minute I couldn’t see past the fire, and the next it was clearer.

  Galen bounded onto the dais with Devlen a step behind.

  “Where’s the groom?” Galen asked me.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  I jerked a thumb at the guard. “Told him to escort me and said he’d be here soon.”

  Galen glanced at Devlen, who gave him a slight shrug. Settling into the chair on the right, Galen inquired about my afternoon. “Did you have fun with the women?”

  “No.”

  He chuckled. “Come here.”

  Devlen moved to stand behind Galen.

  Although I wished to remain in my seat, my body complied. Galen yanked at the scarf, uncovering my arms. Lines of red welts striped my skin.

  I glanced at Devlen. Anger flashed in his eyes.

  Galen admired the damage. “Is it still tender?” He rubbed his hands along my arms, inflaming the cuts.

  I jerked back and grabbed the scarf.

  “Keep it off,” Galen said, pulling it away from me.

  Walsh arrived with six guards. It seemed the guards outnumbered the clan. A couple followed Walsh. He introduced them to us as Minister Heath and his wife, Nancee.