Spy Glass

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by Maria V. Snyder

him. Guess helping shoppers bargain for goods had lost its

  appeal.

  “Any more advice?” I asked.

  “Ask me to keep your secret.”

  I stopped. “Why?”

  “Otherwise, I’ll tell the Commander.”

  “You’ll tell him anyway.”

  “Only if he needs to know.”

  “Oh. All right. Valek, will you please keep the knowledge

  of my immunity to yourself ?”

  “Yes. And I’ll ask you to keep the reason we’re immune to magic a secret.”

  According to Yelena, when I had drained Tricky and Ulrick

  of their blood magic, I had pulled their null shield to me,

  but hadn’t been able to purge the shield as I had all the other magic, including my own. She also claimed a traumatic experience in Valek’s life caused him to pull in a null shield that bonded with his soul. Kade, Leif and Zitora knew about the

  immunity, but not the null shield.

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  Maria V. Snyder

  Another quirk of the null shield being kept from the Coun-

  cil and Sitians was its ability to be woven with fabric. I had

  argued against keeping the information from them—if they

  didn’t know about it they couldn’t guard against it. But the

  Master Magicians and Yelena had overruled me.

  “Does the Commander know why you’re immune?” I

  asked.

  “No. Only the three of us, and I like it to stay that way.”

  In the past, keeping secrets had led me into trouble. “I won’t

  tell anyone unless he or she needs to know.”

  “Could you give me an example?”

  I reviewed the events that had caused my current situation.

  If Zitora had known null shields could be attached to various

  objects, like nets, walls and clothes, she wouldn’t have entered the glass factory and almost died.

  “I don’t want to be bound by a promise in a life-threaten-

  ing situation. Or if I need to tell Kade why I’m immune, I

  will.”

  “Fair enough,” Valek agreed.

  When we returned to the house, my mother insisted Valek

  remain for dinner. She tried to embarrass me by reciting sto-

  ries of my youthful misadventures. While I heard her voice,

  I ceased listening. My mind replayed the conversation I had

  with Valek.

  Something he had said—a word or comment—nagged at

  me, but I couldn’t pinpoint the exact phrase. Not until hours

  later. After Valek left and my family had all gone to sleep.

  When I woke in the middle of the night with my heart slam-

  ming in my chest and my nightclothes soaked with sweat, the

  reason finally clicked in my head.

  Tricky had bled me every day for six days. More blood than

  would be used in that short amount of time. Only a small por-

  tion is mixed with the tattoo ink. Valek had even said blood

  magic was extremely potent.

  What happened to all my blood? Spilled? Spoiled or had

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  29

  it been preserved and hidden away? Or given to another for

  safekeeping? Did Valek suspect there was more out there? Was

  he hunting it? Would Yelena know what Valek was up to? Or

  even where my blood was? Perhaps.

  Tricky would know. But he was in a Fulgor prison along

  with his three goons and Ulrick while they waited for the

  Council to decide their fate. Doubtful any one of them would

  tell me, unless…

  I spent the remainder of the night planning. Instead of

  traveling to the Citadel to tell Master Bloodgood about my im-

  munity, I would make a detour. Guessing and hoping wouldn’t

  work this time. I needed to act. If vials of my blood existed,

  I would find them. First stop—Fulgor.

  “You just arrived. Why are you rushing off ?” my mother

  asked for the fourth time.

  “Mother, I’ve been here for two months.” Sixty-five days of

  wedding plans to be exact. I was surprised I lasted that long.

  “Since I’m not helping Father in the factory—”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re helping me.”

  I shoved another shirt into my pack and glanced at her.

  She stood in the doorway of my bedroom, fidgeting with her

  apron. Mara had the same nervous habit. “What’s really the

  matter?”

  She fisted the white fabric, then smoothed it. “This past

  year has been difficult on you. Kidnapped, tortured…” Her

  gaze dropped to the f loor. “Do you think you’re ready? You

  don’t even have magic to protect you.”

  I debated. The temptation to inform her about my immu-

  nity pulsed in my chest. However, I knew she wouldn’t be

  comforted by the news. It would give her another reason to

  fret. I had confided in my father last night, and he had prom-

  ised to keep it quiet, understanding the need for secrecy.

  “You’ll worry even if I stayed here a hundred days,” I said.

  “I’m just going to the Keep.” I lied to my mother and lightning

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  Maria V. Snyder

  didn’t strike me. At least, not yet. “There are plenty of travelers on the road, and I do know how to defend myself. You

  watched me dump Ahir in the mud.” I grinned at the memory.

  The big oaf thought he could overpower me with his strength

  and size. Ha! “Plus I have Quartz. If we run into trouble, we’ll duck into the plains. No one would follow us in there.” The

  majority of the route to the Citadel followed the edge of the

  Avibian Plains.

  She softened a bit. Time for the winning card.

  “And I’ll be seeing Mara. I can take a few swatches along

  to show her.” Eventually.

  Delight replaced concern. She rushed off to gather the wed-

  ding samples, letting me finish packing. Leaving most of my

  possessions behind, I carried my saddlebags to the shed. No

  sense bringing everything when I didn’t know where I would

  end up.

  Quartz trotted over as soon as I arrived, as if she’d been

  waiting for me. I wondered if the presence of the saddlebags

  tipped her off, or if she sensed I planned to leave.

  I had worried about my connection to Quartz after my

  powers were gone. Sandseed horses were picky. The Stable

  Master at the Keep called them spoiled rotten. The breed

  didn’t allow many people to ride them. But Quartz treated

  me the same—to my vast relief.

  After enduring a round of goodbyes, and finding room for

  my mother’s bulging packages of food and fabric samples, I

  guided Quartz through Booruby, heading north to keep the

  illusion of my trip to the Citadel. The temptation to cut northeast through the Avibian Plains pulsed in my heart. Quartz’s

  desire matched mine. She leaned toward home as she galloped.

  I decided to wait a few days before turning toward Fulgor.

  The nastiness with Ulrick and Tricky had happened in

  Hubal. But the small town lacked a jail and the six men had

  been incarcerated in Fulgor, the capital of the Moon Clan’s

  lands. I would send my mother and Kade a message after I

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  31

  arrived, informing them of my change in plans. A coward’s

  action, but I didn’t want to endure another lecture on safety

  from my m
other.

  A small hum of excitement buzzed in my chest as the miles

  passed under Quartz’s hooves. The outcome of this trip could

  go either way, but there was, at least, one positive result so

  far. I had stopped moping. Not that I ever would admit I had

  been moping in the first place. Especially not to my mother.

  After two days on the main north-south road to the Cita-

  del, I turned northeast into the plains. The terrain seemed to

  undulate as a damp breeze rippled the grasses. Farther in, the

  sandy soil would transform the landscape. Scrub grass and

  clumps of stunted pine trees would cling to the ground. Dry

  firewood would be hard to find and rocks would dominate

  the area.

  Good thing I wouldn’t be in the plains for long. I touched

  Quartz’s shoulder with my finger and my world blurred.

  Colors streaked by, dragging long blazing tails and the air

  thickened, carrying me and Quartz aloft as if her hooves no

  longer touched the ground.

  The Sandseeds called this phenomenon the gust-of-wind

  gait. When gusting, Quartz could cover twice the distance

  that she could at her normal gallop. Only Sandseed horses

  had this magical ability, and only when they were inside the

  Avibian Plains.

  Before, Quartz’s gust-of-wind gait felt like f lying—fast and

  light. Since magic had become tangible to me, the experi-

  ence reminded me of sinking into a muddy river and being

  pushed downstream by the thick current. An odd sensation,

  but I wasn’t going to complain. If we had stayed on the main

  roads, the trip to Fulgor would have taken ten days. By cutting through the plains and gusting, we arrived at Fulgor’s main

  business district in six.

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  Maria V. Snyder

  * * *

  Weaving through the busy downtown quarter, I searched

  for a reputable inn. The sun teetered on the edge of the west-

  ern horizon, casting our thin shadows far ahead. Vendors

  emptied their stands, and shops closed their doors. Everyone

  would return to their homes and eat supper before returning

  to sell goods to the evening crowd.

  I scanned the streets without focusing on any one person

  or place. My thoughts dwelled on past events. This town held

  no cheerful memories for me. I wondered if fate kept sending

  me here so I could… What? Could get it right? Except what

  was “it”?

  Perhaps I was supposed to leave this town without being

  duped, tricked or incarcerated. At least this trip, everyone

  smiled at me and laughed with their companions. No strained

  and worried glances. The last time I had arrived here the

  townspeople hurried fearfully through the half-empty streets,

  staring at the ground.

  Interesting how the citizens hadn’t been able to pinpoint the

  reason for their unease in those days, but they had instinctively known something had been wrong. What I’d discovered was

  their Councilor had been kidnapped by her sister, Akako, and,

  with the aid of Devlen’s blood magic, Tama Moon’s soul was

  switched with Akako’s. While Akako pretended to be the

  Councilor, she locked the real Tama in a cell in Hubal about

  twenty miles away.

  Devlen then switched his soul with Ulrick and pretended to

  be my boyfriend to trick me into finding his mentor. At least

  that didn’t work as he planned. I smiled sourly. By draining

  Devlen of magic, I stopped him from finishing the Kirakawa

  ritual and becoming a master-level magician.

  He claimed I saved him. No longer addicted to blood magic,

  he tried to make amends. During the incident in Hubal, he had

  refused to hurt me. And after, I had watched him surrender

  to the town’s guards to begin a five-year prison sentence.

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  33

  I rubbed a fingertip along my lower lip, remembering the

  light kiss he’d given me before turning himself in to the au-

  thorities. Had he really changed? From Daviian Warper to

  repentant citizen? Yelena had read his soul and supported him.

  She had spoken on his behalf and, combined with the fact he

  had saved Master Magician Zitora Cowan’s life, the Council

  had cut his prison time in half.

  Quartz snorted, jerking me from my thoughts. She stood

  in front of a stable. I blinked at the stable boy.

  “Want me to rub her down?” he asked.

  “No thanks, I’ll do it.” I dismounted. Quartz had picked

  an inn. The stable’s wide walkways, clean stalls and the fresh

  scent of sweet hay boded well for the rest of the place. “You’re spoiled rotten,” I said, scratching her behind the ears.

  “Excuse me?” the boy asked. He hovered nearby.

  “Here.” I handed him her bridle. “Hang it up in her stall

  please.”

  When he returned, he helped me remove her saddle and

  settled her in for the night. I fed her milk oats before searching for the innkeeper. I paused outside the main entrance and

  laughed. Quartz had a warped sense of humor. Or perhaps she

  could read my mind? Either way, I hoped the Second Chance

  Inn had a vacancy.

  The next morning, I woke at dawn. The town’s soldiers

  trained every morning to keep in shape, and I planned to join

  them. I wrapped my heavy cloak around my shoulders as I

  hurried to the guards’ headquarters. Located right next to the

  Councilor’s Hall, the station also housed criminals before they were processed.

  When I arrived, I scanned the sweaty faces of the guards.

  Even in the cold morning air, most of them had tossed their

  long-sleeved tunics over the fence, training in short sleeves.

  The sight made me shiver. Steam puffed from their mouths

  as they heckled each other. More men than women worked

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  Maria V. Snyder

  on sword drills and self-defense, which made it easy for me

  to spot Eve.

  Although she matched my height, she looked tiny compared

  to her partner, Nic. A brute of a man, who had made a bad

  first impression when we met. He recognized me and beamed.

  When he wrapped me in a bear hug, I had to admit, it wasn’t

  his fault our first encounter hadn’t gone well. After all, I had been arrested for disobeying the Council’s orders. He had just

  been doing his job.

  Pressed against his damp shirt, I breathed in his rank scent

  and coughed. “Phew, Nic.” I pulled away. “You stink.”

  “Hello to you, too,” he said with a growl. But couldn’t hold

  it for long. Wrinkles emanated from his big puppy-dog brown

  eyes which contrasted with his sharp too-many-times broken

  nose.

  “By the end of the cold season, we use him as a weapon,”

  Eve said.

  She gave me a quick hug of welcome. Her short strawberry

  blond hair tickled my cheek. Intelligence and humor danced

  in her light blue eyes.

  “All right, I’ll bite. A weapon?” I asked.

  “He hates bathing during the cold season. So by the end he

  reeks so bad, we’ll send him into places we know criminals are

  hiding, and, within minutes, they pour out like rats escaping<
br />
  a burning building. Works better than a stink bomb.”

  “Ha, ha,” Nic deadpanned. “You certainly don’t smell like

  roses after you’ve been working out. Besides, I hate being wet

  and cold.”

  “Me, too,” I said. We launched into stories of woe, trying to

  outdo each other on who had been wetter and colder during

  our various adventures.

  “No way the Northern Ice Sheet is colder than Briney

  Lake,” Nic said. “One time, I broke through the ice, sinking

  up to my thighs—”

  “Nic, that’s enough. I’m sure Opal didn’t come to talk

  Spy Glass

  35

  about your wet feet,” Eve said. Her gaze focused on me and

  she crossed her arms, reminding me of her powerful build.

  “What’s the trouble?”

  “Can’t I come visit two friends without—”

  “No,” Nic interrupted. “It’s too soon. You should be

  with your family or that boyfriend of yours, resting and recuperating.”

  “Kade’s in Ixia, and my mother’s…wedding preparations

  drove me away,” I said.

  “Why didn’t you go to the Magician’s Keep?” Eve asked.

  “Doesn’t your sister live there?”

  “She lives there with Leif.” When they failed to react, I

  added, “Have you seen those two together? I’m queasy just

  thinking about it.”

  They shared a glance.

  “Why here?” Eve asked.

  “Why not? I’m not surrounded by magicians here. Besides,

  I need something to do. Are you hiring?”

  Nic laughed, but Eve punched him on the arm. “She’s

  serious.”

  He sobered. “Come on, Opal. It’s us.”

  Trying to keep secrets had gotten me into trouble before. I

  was supposed to be smarter now. I glanced around the training

  yard. “Not here. Later, when you’re off duty.”

  “Okay, come back for the late-afternoon training session.

  Bring your sais. After we work out, we’ll grab supper at the Pen,” Nic said.

  “The

  Pen?”

  Eve grinned. “The Pig Pen. Nic’s brother owns it. Best stew

  in town.”

  After talking to Nic and Eve, I sent an overland message

  to my parents and one to Kade, explaining my whereabouts.

  Then I spent the rest of the day studying Fulgor’s prison. Lo-

  cated in the far northwest quadrant of the city, it occupied a

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  Maria V. Snyder

  huge area, extending five blocks wide by eight blocks deep.

 

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