Spy Glass

by Maria V. Snyder

idea sparked. I had the answer to how Valek and I would get

  into the maximum security prison.

  I reported to work and assisted Councilor Moon with in-

  terviews. We had been searching for another person to take

  over my duties. Now that I had a way to get inside Wirral,

  hiring a new person and training him or her became critical.

  Tama wasn’t happy, but she understood. She had made such

  progress in trusting others, but, at times, I found her clutching the glass paperweight I had made for her.

  Tama claimed my gift steadied her and gave her strength.

  “It reminds me of you,” she said after the last interviewee had left. “I remember what you have done despite—” she swept

  an arm out “—everything. If you can face your fears, then I

  can, too.”

  Glad she found comfort from my paperweight, I swallowed

  my doubt that I faced my fears. Seeking my blood felt more

  like avoiding the fear of being without magic forever.

  Later in the afternoon, I ran errands for Faith. Just like every

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  day, I delivered various papers and forms to the other offices

  in the Hall. Except today I failed to hand over one form.

  Instead, I slipped it into my satchel. One day’s delay wouldn’t be noticed. I hoped.

  After I finished my tasks for the Councilor, I raced home.

  When I entered the ground f loor, I paused. The lantern we

  kept lit in the glass factory was dark. It was either out of oil or someone had extinguished the f lame.

  I put my bag and cloak down. Sliding my sais from the

  holder around my waist, I left them with my cloak and palmed

  my switchblade. I stepped to the side, keeping my back against

  the wall. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the semidarkness.

  Slivers of sunlight cut through the cracks in the boards cover-

  ing the windows.

  As I strained to hear any sounds over the hum of the kiln,

  two possible scenarios came to mind if the lantern had been

  snuffed. One ambusher or more than one. The second pos-

  sibility jacked up my heart rate.

  Remaining with my back to the wall, I moved to the left,

  stopping after each step to listen. When I reached the corner

  of the room one of the slivers of light f lickered as a shadow

  passed. Inside or outside? Valek’s voice lectured in my mind—

  assume the worst. Inside then.

  I had no desire to leave the corner, but I could be here all

  night if I didn’t check the lantern. The out-of-oil scenario

  hadn’t been dismissed yet. I ghosted along the long wall of

  the factory. The lantern sat in a stone alcove at the midway

  point. I reached it.

  Before I could check the oil level, the shadow returned,

  and I dived toward it before it could move. I slammed into a

  person. Knocking the ambusher down, I pinned the man to

  the ground. With a move I had practiced a thousand times, I

  triggered my switchblade and pressed the tip to f lesh.

  He stopped struggling in an instant.

  “Talk or die,” I ordered.

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  143

  He

  laughed.

  I groaned and pushed to my feet. “Did I pass your test,

  Valek?”

  “With f lying colors. I especially liked your ultimatum,” he

  said.

  “Is this a new twist to our training? Am I going to have to

  be on guard all the time?”

  “You should be on guard all the time, regardless.” He lit

  the lantern. The yellow glow illuminated his amusement.

  “Practice and repetition sharpen your ref lexes to a point where you move without thinking. However, the element of fear is

  hard to replicate during training. Which is why I make you

  pick locks on real houses with the occupants sleeping inside

  and why I will test you from time to time.”

  “Wonderful,” I muttered.

  I collected my satchel and cloak and followed him upstairs.

  When he pulled a chair up to the table full of blueprints, I

  remembered my epiphany.

  Feeling smug, I withdrew the form and slapped it down in

  front of him. “Here’s our way into Wirral.”

  He scanned the page. “Well done.”

  “Was it a test, too? Pretending it was impossible?”

  “No. It had been impossible for you to get inside the prison.”

  He paused.

  I took the bait. “Me? But not you?”

  “Correct. I can get inside without donning a disguise or

  doing any of those other tricks. You would need a few more

  years of experience and training to do the same.”

  “Years?” My future life f lashed before me—creeping around

  in the dark, being away from my family and friends—not

  appealing.

  “Yes. And you’ve been assessing the mission under a false

  assumption. One I hesitated to correct you about.”

  I braced for his revelation. “Go on.”

  “I’m not going with you. This is your mission, not mine.”

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  Maria V. Snyder

  Two seasons ago, I would have been terrified by his state-

  ment. Instead, only a nauseous anxiety swirled. I pointed to

  the form on the table. “What if I get caught?”

  “Mission over. You’ll have to deal with the conse-

  quences.”

  Meaning no rescue. More than enough incentive to avoid

  capture. I tapped the paper. “I don’t have the resources to forge that document or the men to—”

  “My people will assist you. Just because you’re going in

  alone, doesn’t mean I’m not still helping.” He smiled.

  My muscles relaxed and I sagged into a chair.

  Valek drummed his fingers on the table as he considered.

  “Will you be able to handle the role? You’ve had some awful

  experiences.”

  “I can do it.” I assured him and myself. I had to do it. No

  other options remained.

  “Good. You have completed the first level of spy training.”

  He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to me.

  “Go on, open it.”

  Unwrapping the package with care, I half expected the

  contents to be another one of his tests. Nestled inside the

  box was a black cylinder. It was only a few inches long and as

  round as a coin. A glass ball filled one end and the other was

  hollow and had a slight lip.

  Seeing my confusion, Valek plucked the object from my

  hand and pulled on the lip. The cylinder extended into a foot-

  long tube.

  “It’s a spyglass.” He held the hollow end up to his right eye

  and closed the other eye. “It brings distant objects closer.” Valek gave it back to me. “Consider it a graduation present.”

  I pointed the glass at a lantern and squinted through the

  tube. “Incredible. Thanks.” I lowered the gift. “Do you give

  these to all your students?”

  “No. Each person is unique. I enjoy finding something that

  matches each one’s personality.”

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  145

  “And how does a spyglass fit me?”

  “You’re living in the present. It’s a reminder that you can see the future if you just point the glass in the right direction.”

  During the next five days,
I checked off my to-do list.

  Councilor Moon hired a new assistant and I trained her. I

  submitted the forged paperwork. And after one of our morn-

  ing training sessions, I told Nic and Eve I would be traveling

  to Hubal for a few weeks. No surprise Nic grumped at me,

  and when it was time for them to report to work, I touched

  Eve’s sleeve and asked her to stay behind as the other guards

  went inside.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, but I wanted to ask a favor.”

  Eve grinned conspiratorially. “One you don’t want Nic to

  know about?”

  “Exactly.” I summoned my courage and handed her a sealed

  letter. “If I don’t return from Hubal by midseason, can you

  deliver this to First Adviser Moon?”

  She peered at the envelope. I had worded the letter with

  care just in case Eve or Nic decided to read it before giving

  it to Faith. If I was caught, then all of Fulgor would hear the news. However, if Finn discovered me first, I could become a

  permanent occupant of the prison without anyone the wiser.

  I hoped it would be my insurance.

  “I wish you would trust us,” she finally said.

  I gestured to the letter. “I am. And I trust you to do your

  jobs. I never wanted to compromise your positions on Fulgor’s

  security force. That’s not being a friend.”

  “But we want to help you. We don’t mind breaking the

  rules for a good reason.”

  “Eve, if it was critical to Sitia or was to protect the Coun-

  cilor then I would have included you right from the start. This is a selfish mission, benefiting only myself. No reason to risk your jobs.”

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  Maria V. Snyder

  She frowned and opened her mouth as if to argue, but

  snapped it closed and nodded. “You better be back by mid-

  season,” she ordered.

  I gave her a mock salute. “Yes, sir!”

  Eve hurried to HQ. The empty yard matched the feeling in

  my chest. Last time I had gone on a mission by myself, I had

  gone about it the wrong way. This time I would do it right.

  My plan was based on strategy and planning with the best spy

  in Ixia and Sitia. I had confidence in my abilities. I hadn’t lied to Eve. I needed her and Nic to do their jobs.

  So why couldn’t I be content? Why the worry? Why

  couldn’t I be like Valek and focus on the logic? No emotion

  needed. Perhaps it was my lack of experience or the personal

  nature of the mission.

  I pushed those thoughts aside and waited for the construc-

  tion crew. It didn’t take Devlen long to find me.

  “You’re leaving,” he stated.

  No surprise he could read my mood. As I had told Nic,

  he knew me inside and out. He reached. I stepped. Devlen

  wrapped me in his arms. Resting my head on his chest, I

  listened to his strong heartbeat.

  “If you don’t return, I’ll come for you,” he said.

  “Wait until the heating season. I have another plan in place,

  but it could fall through.”

  “That’s

  alarming.”

  I leaned back. “Alarming?”

  “It’s the first time you agreed with me. You must be

  worried.”

  “I’m being smart.”

  “Good. When you find your blood, you’ll need me.”

  And if I didn’t, I’d need him. No one else would under-

  stand.

  He followed my thoughts. “I’ll be here. Regardless.” Then

  he kissed me. Devlen drew away, trailing his fingers along my

  arms.

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  147

  Goose bumps raced along my skin, sending a shiver up my

  spine.

  “Do you remember the pressure points?” he asked.

  The pleasant tingle f led, replaced by a sudden wariness.

  “Why?”

  A slight cringe creased his brow at my tone, but he gestured

  to his torso. “If you run into trouble, there is a point that you can reach when your hands are manacled behind your back.”

  Grabbing my hand, he placed my fingers on a spot near his

  waist. “If you jab here with two stiff fingers, the person’s

  stomach muscles will cramp bad enough to cause them to bend

  over in pain. It lasts a few seconds. Long enough to follow up

  with another strike or to run away.”

  I moved my fingers, trying to memorize the location.

  “It’s about two inches to the left of the belly button,” Devlen said. “Practice if you have time.”

  “Thanks.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I’m already missing you.” With a

  slight wave, he returned to the construction site.

  Again no one appeared to notice except Pellow. Since Nic

  hadn’t lectured me about my illegal visits with Devlen, I as-

  sumed Pellow hadn’t been gossiping. I wondered why as I

  hurried home.

  Quartz and I left for Hubal the next morning. Bright sun-

  light lit the countryside. The cool temperature was just right

  for Quartz. She stretched her muscles and jumped anything

  she could find, including a sleeping cow. The half day’s ride

  ended too soon as we approached the small town by early

  afternoon.

  Slowing Quartz to a walk, we navigated the streets of

  downtown. I waited for my unpleasant memories to attack.

  The scars on my arms itched, but once I reached the Dolo-

  mite Inn, my mind filled with recollections of the generous

  innkeeper instead. He had endured the invasion of my family

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  Maria V. Snyder

  and friends for half a season, and had allowed my mother to

  take over his kitchen.

  He greeted me with a wide smile and open arms. After

  Quartz was settled in the inn’s stables, I joined him in the

  common room. He looked the same. His bushy white eye-

  brows were the only hair above his big ears.

  “There was such a to-do after you left,” he said. He f lagged

  down one the servers. “Bring Miss Opal a bowl of our marble

  soup,” he ordered.

  “Yes, Mister Paul,” she said.

  “Marble soup?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “The masons like it when I name dishes after

  the stones they carve. It brings in more customers and doesn’t

  cost me a thing!”

  The waitress delivered a bowl filled with a steaming white

  liquid. The unmistakable scent of oysters reached me. I stirred the soup with a spoon and discovered long green strings. The

  soup resembled the white marble streaked with green veins

  that was mined in Hubal. Every government building in Sitia

  had been built with that particular marble.

  I tasted a spoonful. The fishy f lavor dominated. “What’s

  the green stuff ?”

  Mister Paul wheezed with humor. “Seaweed. But don’t tell

  anyone.”

  “You’re far from the sea. This must be expensive soup.”

  “Not too bad. There’s an outfit down along the Bloodgood

  coast that found an abundance of oysters and they hooked up

  with some magician so they can ship the seafood without it

  going bad.”

  When I had traveled along the coastline, there had been a

  number of depressed towns fading into ruins. I hoped one of
>
  them had hit the oyster jackpot.

  “How do they ship it?” I asked between slurps of my

  soup.

  “Cold

  glass.”

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  149

  I almost dropped the spoon. “Really?” My voice squeaked.

  “Yeah. It’s strange stuff. The food is packed into these glass

  jars. They’re cold to the touch, but as soon as you open the

  jar, the cold disappears.” He shrugged. “Took my wife a bit

  to get used to it, but it works.”

  “Can I see one?”

  “Sure.” He sent another server to the kitchen.

  The soup felt as though it turned to stone in my stomach

  as I waited. The woman carried a jar coated with frost and

  handed it to me. Magic clung to it, but I couldn’t figure out

  what it was doing to keep the contents frozen. A rose design

  had been stamped into the lid.

  “Do you know who is providing these?” I asked.

  “The merchant is a Bloodgood. Said his name was Fallon.

  Why?”

  “Just curious.” The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t

  place it. I examined the jar. The cold numbed my hands, but

  I didn’t see anything unusual. The server returned it to the

  kitchen. I would have to investigate after my business with

  Ulrick was completed.

  “How long are you staying?” Mister Paul asked.

  “One

  night.”

  His ears seemed to droop in disappointment. I suppressed

  a smile.

  “You mentioned a big to-do after I left. What happened?”

  I asked.

  “Nothing bad. Just lots of visitors and officials and questions.

  Lots of customers!” He beamed. “They took that Donner place

  apart. A Master Magician and the Soulfinder stayed in my

  inn.” Pride puffed his chest.

  With Irys and Yelena on hand during the search, I was

  certain they hadn’t found a vial full of blood in the Donner

  factory. Otherwise Valek wouldn’t have been asking me ques-

  tions about it.

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  Maria V. Snyder

  “What happened to the factory after everyone left?” I

  asked.

  “Closed up. It’s for sale, but no one is interested.”

  The next day, I headed north, aiming for the boarding

  stables Valek had mentioned. Odd for the stables to be so far

  from any towns. When I arrived at the tiny barn with one

  stable lad and one black horse, I guessed this place wasn’t on

  any of the official Sitian maps.

  When Valek came out of the modest farmhouse to greet