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Spy Glass

Page 4

by Maria V. Snyder

Its sheer outer walls were topped with coils of barbed wire.

  Glints of sunlight ref lected off glass shards that had been cemented into the top third of the wall, acting as an effective

  and low-cost device to cut climbing ropes.

  Watchtowers perched above the four corners of the massive

  building. I walked around the structure, noting only two well-

  guarded entrances. The place appeared to be impenetrable.

  Sneaking into the prison was out of the question. Escape also

  seemed impossible.

  I found a hidden spot to observe the entrance. Not a lot of

  movement either in or out. I had hoped a shift change would

  create a f lurry of activity, but the shifts must have been staggered. Every two hours, some officers went in and three or

  four would leave. Even delivery wagons were few and far

  between.

  Janco would be delighted by the challenge, but I wouldn’t

  ask him for help. He was in enough trouble because of me.

  There had to be another way inside.

  Cold and stiff from my day-long surveillance, I arrived at

  the guards’ afternoon session with my sais and wearing my

  training uniform. A long-sleeved tunic tied with a belt, and a

  pair of loose-fitting pants. Both garments were dark brown to

  hide the bloodstains and dirt. I wore my softest pair of leather boots, also brown with black rubber soles.

  I joined Nic and Eve, and it wasn’t long before my stamina

  waned. My bouts with my brother Ahir hadn’t been enough

  to get me back into shape. Huffing and puffing with effort, I

  swung and blocked Nic’s sword a few times before he unarmed

  me.

  He tsked. “Someone hasn’t been keeping up with her training.”

  “The man’s a genius,” I said between gulps of air. “What

  Spy Glass

  37

  are your next words of wisdom, Oh Smart One? Water is

  wet?”

  “Someone gets grumpy when she’s outmatched.”

  I responded by triggering my switchblade.

  Nic sheathed his sword, and pulled a dagger. “Street fight.”

  He lunged.

  Not quite a fair match. His longer weapon kept me at arm’s

  length, but I used a few nasty moves Janco taught me. Even

  so, Nic disarmed me again.

  At the end of the training session, my arms ached and I

  couldn’t lift a sword let alone defend myself. All my hard work to reach a competent level had been undone by one season of

  light activity.

  Eve bumped my shoulder with hers. “Don’t worry. The

  skills are there. And you’re looking a lot better than the last time we saw you.”

  “Loads better,” Nic said. “Then I could have blown you

  over with my breath.”

  I met Eve’s gaze. He had given me the perfect opening.

  “Too easy,” she said, shaking her head. “Trust me, you’ll

  have plenty of opportunities to slam him.”

  “When?” I asked her.

  “Twice a day, every day as long as you’re in Fulgor.”

  Nic put a sweaty arm around my shoulders. “We’ll get you

  into fighting shape in no time.”

  “Great,” I said, and held my breath until Nic released me.

  “Does his brother have the same hygiene?” I asked Eve. “Is

  that why the place is called the Pig Pen?”

  Her sly smile failed to reassure me.

  My first impression of the tavern was utter disbelief. The

  place smelled of spiced beef and fresh-baked bread. Patrons

  filled all the tables and a bright fire warmed the room. Nic

  led us through the crowd. A bunch of people gathered in front

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  Maria V. Snyder

  of the bar. All the stools should have been occupied, but two

  remained empty.

  Nic and Eve headed straight toward them. Eve slid onto

  hers as Nic called to the bartender. He settled in his stool,

  and before I could move, a ripple f lowed along the bar and

  an empty stool appeared next to Nic. He gestured for me to

  claim it.

  Amazed, I sat. No squawk of protest. No murmurs of

  complaint. Instead the room buzzed with conversation, and

  laughter punctuated the general hum. The dark wood of the

  bar gleamed with care. Clean glasses lined the shelves behind

  the counter.

  The bartender placed steaming bowls of stew and mugs of

  ale in front of us, but before he could wait on another cus-

  tomer, Nic introduced me to his brother, Ian.

  I shook his hand and studied Ian. His dark hair touched the

  top of his shoulders, and he was slimmer than Nic. No scars

  like the one Nic had along his jaw. Ian also wore fitted clothes that matched compared to Nic’s ad hoc pants and shirt. Other

  than those differences, the men looked identical.

  “Twin brother?” I asked Nic.

  He grinned, brushing a hand over the bristle on his head.

  “I thought the hair would throw you.”

  “I used to be an artist. It takes more than a different hairstyle to fool me.”

  “Good to know.” Nic dug into his stew with abandon,

  dripping gravy onto the bar. Ian rolled his eyes and wiped up

  the mess.

  “Pig pen?” I asked Ian.

  “Family joke. Growing up, our mother had trouble keeping

  track of who was who. She used certain clues to help her, and

  when we figured out what she was using, we would switch.

  For example, Nic’s half of the room was always a mess, so

  when Mother would come in to say good-night, she expected

  Nic to be in the messy bed, but I was there instead.”

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  “So when she comes into a tavern named Pig Pen, she

  expects Nic to be behind the bar because he’s still a slob, but you’re there.”

  “Right.”

  “Hey!” Nic wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I think I’ve

  been insulted.”

  “Not

  insulted.

  Identified. ” Ian laughed and returned to

  work.

  “That’s it. I’m tired of being picked on,” Nic said. “I’m

  never coming here again.”

  “Where will you go?” Eve asked. “All the other taverns

  will make you pay for your meal.”

  “Are you calling me cheap?” Nic demanded.

  “Not cheap. Spoiled.”

  “That would explain the smell,” I said.

  Eve choked on her ale as Nic growled.

  We spent the rest of the evening catching up on news and

  gossip. The stew was better than my mother’s, although I

  wouldn’t admit it out loud. No one mentioned my real reason

  for coming to Fulgor until Nic and Eve walked me back to

  the inn despite my protests.

  “After your sorry performance this afternoon, you should

  have a bodyguard until you get in shape,” Nic said. “I’m

  hoping your plans in Fulgor don’t involve any danger.” His

  comment sounded like a query.

  My first instinct was to dodge the question, but I needed

  their help. Might as well take the direct approach. “Can you

  get me a job in the prison?”

  They skidded to a stop and gaped at me. Eve recovered first.

  “If you’re worried about those men who hurt you, they’re in

  the SMU.”

  “SMU?”

&nbs
p; “Special Management Unit. In a place that is isolated from

  the regular prison population.”

  “Good to know, but that’s not the reason,” I said.

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  Maria V. Snyder

  “Then why?” she asked.

  “To obtain information.”

  “Wow,” Nic said. “That’s seriously vague.”

  “I’d rather not give you details at this time, but it is

  important.”

  Nic chewed on his lip. “You’re not going to do something

  illegal, are you? Like help a prisoner escape?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You’ll give us details later?” Eve asked.

  Later could be years from now. “Yes. I promise. Will you

  help me?”

  “Depends,” Nic said.

  “On

  what?”

  “Do you need a position at Wirral or Dawnwood?”

  I hadn’t realized there were two in Fulgor. “What’s the

  difference?”

  “Wirral is a maximum-security facility. Dawnwood is low-

  security.”

  “Maximum-security.”

  “We can’t help you,” Eve said.

  “Why

  not?”

  “We don’t have any contacts at Wirral. They recruit people

  straight from the academy and train them for another year.”

  “Yeah, if you wanted a post at Dawnwood, we could pull

  some strings,” Nic said.

  I tried to hide my disappointment. “Do you know anyone

  who has a friend at Wirral?”

  Eve shook her head. We continued the rest of the way to

  the Second Chance in silence.

  Before I could say good-night, Nic groaned and slapped

  himself on the forehead. “How could I forget?”

  “Do you want a list or should I just summarize?” Eve

  quipped.

  “Ha. Ha. We don’t have any connections to Wirral, but you

  do, Opal.”

  Spy Glass

  41

  “Me?”

  “Damn. He’s right. I’m sure she would help you.”

  “Who?” Partners could be so annoying!

  “Councilor

  Moon.”

  The Councilor’s Hall teemed with guards. Four

  times as many as the last time I had been here. I couldn’t just sign in and find my own way. No. Instead, I had to surrender

  my sais and switchblade, endure being frisked and interro-

  gated about my reasons for coming to the Hall. Then I was

  assigned an escort.

  My companion was a friendlier version of the entrance

  soldiers. He didn’t carry the full complement of weapons

  around his waist. I guessed these half guards were an attempt

  to downplay the overwhelming tension that vibrated in the

  air. It didn’t work.

  As I followed him across the black-and-white checkerboard

  tiles of the Hall’s lobby, my skin crawled with the feeling of

  many gazes watching my every move. Strident sounds echoed

  in the large open space. The ceiling with its grand glass chan-

  delier hung ten stories above my head. On the opposite side of

  the lobby, an elaborate wooden staircase wound up the f loors,

  giving access to the rest of the building where the Moon Clan’s administrative staff had offices and suites.

  When we reached the bottom step, a bubble of magic

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  43

  engulfed us. My escort continued to climb the stairs, but I

  glanced around, looking for the magician. The press of power

  disappeared. Since no one caught my eye, I hurried to catch

  up.

  Councilor Tama Moon’s office suite was located on the

  first f loor. The long hallway to her elaborate double doors

  had been decorated with art from various clan members. I

  noticed all of Gressa’s glass pieces were gone. Not surpris-

  ing. She had helped Akako take possession of Tama’s body. I

  wondered which prison Gressa had been sent to—Wirral or

  Dawnwood.

  When we entered Tama’s expansive reception area, my

  escort said for the fifth time, “She won’t see you today, and

  it’s doubtful she’ll even let you make an appointment.”

  The woman sitting behind the desk frowned and appeared

  to steel herself for an argument. Considering what had hap-

  pened to her, I understood Tama’s precautions, but the whole

  atmosphere reeked of paranoia.

  “She knows me, and if I have to wait a few days to see her,

  that’s fine,” I said.

  However the heavy tread of boots behind me wasn’t fine.

  I turned and two wide guards tackled me to the f loor. My

  breath whooshed out with the impact. In a heartbeat, they

  yanked off my cloak, pulled my arms back and manacled my

  wrists.

  Voices yelled and confusion reigned for a moment. Jerked

  to my feet, I swayed as dizziness obscured my vision. A hot

  metallic taste filled my mouth. I probed teeth and lips with

  my tongue, seeking damage. A split lip so far.

  The commotion drew Councilor Moon from her office.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Good

  question.

  “Zebb said she has a null shield,” the guy clutching my left

  arm said.

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  Maria V. Snyder

  Why would they think—? Oh. The bubble of magic couldn’t

  sense anything from me, therefore I must be shielded.

  Tama stepped closer. The men increased the pressure as if

  I would try to attack her. I almost laughed at the ridiculous-

  ness of the situation until I saw the strain in her face. Hollow cheeked and with dark smudges under her eyes, she gaped at

  me in fear.

  “Opal?” she asked.

  Not trusting my voice, I nodded.

  “Why are you here?” She hugged her arms to her chest as

  if to keep herself from falling apart.

  “To visit you.”

  She blinked. “Why are you shielded, I thought…”

  Stunned, I watched this brittle shell of a woman as she

  struggled to make sense of the situation. Her blond hair hung

  limp and greasy; she had aged years in the span of one season

  and stains covered her white silk tunic.

  Her gaze snapped to me with a sudden intensity. “You lost

  your magic. Are you afraid someone is going to attack you,

  too?”

  “No. I’m not shielded.” But I began to understand. Magic

  once again surrounded me, seeking. I guessed the magician

  wanted an update.

  My escort spoke for the first time, and I wondered if he

  could feel the power, as well. “Maybe I should fetch Zebb?”

  “No. Absolutely not. He is not allowed up here,” Tama

  said. “Why did that magician think you’ve erected a null

  shield?”

  She spat the word magician. Coming here had been a bad idea; I wondered if Nic and Eve were aware of the change in

  the Councilor.

  “He must be mistaken,” I said. “You know I have no magi-

  cal powers. Why would I come here to harm you? I helped

  rescue you.”

  The viselike grip on my arms relaxed from crushing to

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  45

  bruising. Tama melted. She covered her face with her hands,

  either embarrassed by her overreaction or relieved.

&nb
sp; “What’s this all about?” another female voice demanded.

  I glanced over my shoulder and recognized Faith Moon,

  the Councilor’s First Adviser. Light ref lected off her glasses as she scanned our little group, assessing the situation. The

  Adviser’s short brown hair was tucked behind her ears. Her

  mouth dropped open when she spotted me wedged between

  the two guards.

  “Release Opal immediately,” she ordered. “Dari, bring

  some tea for our guest.” The woman behind the desk shot to

  her feet and bolted from the room.

  The guards didn’t move. “Councilor?” Left Arm asked.

  Tama dropped her hands as if overcome by pure exhaustion.

  “Yes, of course. Let her go.”

  Right Arm unlocked the manacles. I rubbed my wrists. My

  skin crawled as if I had walked through a sticky spiderweb.

  Threads of invisible magic clung, but I couldn’t wipe them

  away. Or could I?

  “Opal, please forgive me. I…I don’t…know…” The Coun-

  cilor spread her hands out in a vague gesture.

  Faith wrapped a supportive arm around Tama’s shoulders.

  “Let’s go back to your office. Opal, please come with us.” She

  scowled at the three men. “Gentlemen, you can return to your

  duties.” She guided Tama into a comfortable armchair near

  the door.

  I stood to the side, feeling awkward. The magician stopped

  trying to reach me. The bands of magic fell away and I sucked

  in a relieved breath. When Dari returned with a tray of tea,

  Faith grabbed it from her and shooed the woman out. Two

  guards bookended the entrance, but remained in the outer

  office. Faith closed the office door with her hip and set the

  tray on a table.

  Serving the Councilor first, Faith then handed me a steam-

  ing cup. “I’m glad you’re here. Please sit down.”

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  Maria V. Snyder

  I sank into a chair opposite Tama and sipped my tea. I didn’t

  know what I should say or do. “If this is a bad time…” I tried, but they ignored me.

  Faith knelt next to Tama and clasped her hand. “Talk to

  Opal. She might be able to help you. She’s been harmed by

  magic and by Warpers. She’s been betrayed.” Faith gestured

  to me. “Yet, here she is. And without any magic to defend

  herself.”

  Tama shrank into the cushions, shaking her head. “She

  wouldn’t understand.”

  “Not completely, but you need to tell her what you won’t tell me.” Faith squeezed her hand, shot me an encouraging

  look and left the room.

 

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