Read the book: «Spy Glass»

Praise for New York Times bestselling author

MARIA V. SNYDER

‘This is one of those rare books that will keep readers dreaming long after they’ve read it.’

—Publishers Weekly, starred review, on Poison Study

‘This rare sequel to live up to the promise of its predecessor, Magic Study is a wonderful combination of romance and fantasy.’ —Audible.com Editor’s Pick: Best of 2006, Romance

‘Snyder delivers another excellent adventure, deftly balancing international and local hostilities against Yelena’s personal struggles.’

—Publishers Weekly on Fire Study

‘With new magic and new people introduced in Storm Glass, Ms Snyder has a fertile new landscape to mine for us. I cannot wait.’ —Fallen Angel Reviews, a Recommended Read

‘A compelling new fantasy series.’

—SFX magazine on Sea Glass

‘Inside Out surprised and touched me on so many levels. It’s a wonderful, thoughtful book full of vivid characters and a place—Inside—that is by turn alien and heart-breakingly familiar. Maria V. Snyder is one of my favourite authors, and she’s done it again!’ —New York Times bestselling author Rachel Caine

Also by New York Times bestselling author

Maria V. Snyder

The Chronicles of Ixia

POISON STUDY

MAGIC STUDY

FIRE STUDY

STORM GLASS

SEA GLASS

SPY GLASS

The Insider series

INSIDE OUT

OUTSIDE IN

Avry of Kazan series

TOUCH OF POWER

SCENT OF MAGIC

www.miraink.co.uk

Spy Glass
Maria V. Snyder

www.miraink.co.uk

For Bob Mecoy, agent extraordinaire.

Without your encouragement and frequent feedback on this one, it would never have been finished.

Acknowledgements

A huge thank-you to my husband, Rodney, and children, Luke and Jenna. Their encouragement and support never wavers.

During the writing of my books, I’m thankful to have a wonderful network of supporters. My critique partner, Kimberley J. Howe, is always willing to read and comment on my first drafts. My friend Judi Fleming has encouraged me in many ways. Our contest to see who could write the most words in a day was what I needed to finish the story. Thanks for the incentive and the wine!

After visits to Harlequin’s Toronto, New York City and London offices, I was amazed to learn how many people are involved in getting my manuscript transformed into a published book. I like to thank them all for their hard work and effort on my books!

My excellent editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey, thankfully continues to give me invaluable advice and inspiration. Thanks to Elizabeth Mazer, a vital member of our team.

The art department has done a fantastic job with this bright cover. Many thanks to all the talented artists, designers and photographers for your creative efforts.

A special thank you to my friend Kathy Flowers. She arranged for me to take a tour of a maximum security prison and then played tour guide for the day. It was an enlightening experience and a bit scary as we mingled with the inmates. And a shout out to the Black Sergeant, visitor number one-three-six-five thanks you for your time.

And a huge thanks to my massive army of Book Commandos! Your efforts have helped in spreading the word about my books. Special mention to those who have gone above and beyond the call to duty: Louise Bateman, Justin Boyer, Elizabeth Earhart, Michelle Gottier, Jane Gov, Jimmy Grogan, Jen Grzebien, Kelley Hartsell, Kate Ladd, Heather Lloyd, Denise Löchtermann, James Pellow, Kelly Plaia, Erica Rowe, Greg Schauer, Laura Schibinger, Jessica Scott, Larry Smith, Ashlen Stevenson, Julie Walsh and Sarah Weir. Valek may try to recruit you to his team.

THE TERRITORY OF IXIA

Chapter One

CROUCHING IN THE DARKNESS OF THE CLOSET, I STILLED as footsteps approached. My instincts screamed to run. I stared at the thin ribbon of light under the door, shadows of shoes paused. I silently urged them to walk away. All I wanted was one day of peace. One day. The knob turned. No luck. With a whoosh of fresh air, my hiding spot was exposed.

“For sand’s sake, Opal, what are you doing in there?” my mother asked.

I suppressed a sigh. The truth—hiding from her—wouldn’t help. “Looking for my boots?”

Her scowl deepened as she pushed back a lock of graying hair. “They’re on your feet.”

I straightened. “Oh…yes…well.”

“Come. There are a thousand things we need to do, and you’re wasting time.” She shooed me through my room and downstairs to the kitchen. “Sit and read me the guest list while I cook lunch.”

My gaze swept the long wooden table filled with paper, swatches of fabric, lace, sequins, sewing patterns and half-completed decorations—enough clutter to force us to eat in our formal dining room. I cursed my sister Mara under my breath. Before returning to work at the Magician’s Keep’s glass shop, Mara had asked our mother to plan her and Leif’s wedding, trusting her with everything. Smart girl. She remained a safe five-day journey away from Mother’s all-consuming new passion.

When I failed to sit at the table, she stabbed a spoon at the chair. “Guest list, Opal.”

“You’ve been over it a hundred times.”

“I want to be certain—”

“You haven’t missed anyone. It’s perfect. Stop worrying.”

She dried her hands on her apron. The stained white fabric covered her chest and long skirt. “Do you have something better to do? Did I interrupt your moping time?”

“I’m not moping.” My voice whined. Not a good sign.

“Resting, recuperating, moping, it’s all the same.” She hauled a kettle filled with water over to the glowing coals in the hearth.

“No it isn’t. A lot has happened—”

She pished at me. My own mother!

“Stop wallowing in the past. What’s done is done. Focus on the future. We only have one hundred and fifty-three days until the wedding! Then it’s only a matter of time for grandchildren and maybe you and Kade…?”

Yanking the chair out with a loud scrape, I plopped on it. I snatched the list from the pile and read names aloud as my mother continued to bustle about the kitchen. She had mentioned Kade almost every day since I’d arrived. Sixty-three days of missing him, dodging her questions and being drafted to help with preparations for an event two and a half seasons away. How could one woman be so irritating? For a second I wished for another family. A sensible one without all this…stuff, like the Bloodrose Clan, living in austere isolation.

“Opal, stop making that face.”

I glanced over the list, but her back was to me. Long strands of hair had sprung from the knot she had tied this morning. She rolled dough with quick efficiency.

“How did you know?”

“I’m your mother. I see all. Hear all. Know all.”

I laughed. “If that’s true, then why do you ask me so many questions?” Ha. Got her!

Her hands stilled. She turned to me. “Because you need to hear the answers.”

My father’s arrival saved me from a retort I didn’t have. He filled the room with his large frame. Even though most of his short hair had turned gray, he still looked young. My brother, Ahir, bounded in behind him. A mirror image of our father except Ahir’s thick black hair brushed his shoulders.

“Hey, mop top,” I said to Ahir.

“What’s up, peanut?” He smirked.

I used to tower over him, but now he was six inches taller than my own five-foot-seven-inch height.

Before I could throw another insult at him, he handed me an aqua-green glass vase. “New recipe. Look at the clarity. Sharp.”

I examined the glass in the sunlight. The cold crystal felt dead in my hands. No throb of potential. No song vibrated in my chest. Nothing. My glass magic was gone. Although painfully aware of my loss, a small part of me hoped to feel a spark every time I touched glass…only to be disappointed each time.

“Working with this melt is pure joy,” Ahir said. “Let’s go over to the factory, I’ll gather a slug for you to try.”

I gave him a tight smile, letting him know I saw through his blatant attempt to interest me in creating with glass again. But no magic equaled no passion. Before Yelena had uncovered my abilities, I hadn’t known about the magic. It had been masked by my desire to create. Now, the inert lump in my hand was just another reminder of my useless existence.

“I think I’ll go for a ride instead.” Returning the vase to Ahir, I left the kitchen. My mother’s protests about missing lunch followed me to the shed.

My family owned an eight-kiln glass factory, not horses. However, when I decided to stay for a while, my father cleaned out the shed, converting it into a temporary stable for Quartz. The small enclosure had room to hang my tack and saddle, and to give Quartz shelter from bad weather. Being a Sandseed horse, she preferred to graze in the Avibian Plains bordering our land.

No one would dare bother a Sandseed horse in the plains. I scanned the tall grasses. They swayed with the wind. The reds, yellows and oranges of the cooling season had faded into the gray and brown dullness of the cold season. I shivered, thinking of the miserable weather yet to come. Believe it or not, I had been anticipating this time of year. The fierce storms on the coast had abated. Kade planned to spend a few weeks with me, until the Commander of Ixia had invited him to demonstrate his Stormdancing powers, taming the killer blizzards blowing from the Northern Ice Sheet.

Kade had invited me along, except I hated the cold and would rather not be anywhere near the ice sheet. Plus what would I do there? I would have no job other than keeping Kade’s bed warm. Well…That wouldn’t be a chore at all. I smiled, but sobered. Despite my mother’s intentions, my one reason for being home wasn’t to help with Mara and Leif’s wedding. I needed to make a decision.

Unease twisted. My bad decisions outweighed my good ones by two to one. I had a thirty-three percent chance of getting it right. Dismissing those useless thoughts, I stepped into the plains to search for Quartz.

After I traveled a hundred feet, magic pressed on my skin as if I pushed against a giant sponge. I waited for the pressure to dissipate as the protection determined I wasn’t a threat. It was usually suicidal to walk into the plains without permission from the Sandseed Clan. Their defensive magic would confuse me, sending me into a panic, convinced I was lost. This time, my new immunity blocked the Sandseed’s magic. I could sense it, but it registered my presence as a magical void. Nice perks, yet…

Without my glass magic, I felt as if a chunk of my soul had been sliced off. I had no regrets over my actions, sacrificing my powers had been the right choice. So if I wasn’t moping, then why the ache? Why did I feel trapped in the shadow world?

All maudlin thoughts vanished when Quartz trotted into view. Considered a painted mare, her coat was a patchwork of white and auburn colors. The darker color covered her face, except for a white star between her soft brown eyes. Forgoing a saddle and bridle, I hopped onto her back and left my worries and Mother’s wedding plans far behind.

Sitting in the living area later that evening, I addressed envelopes. My mother had appealed to my ego by complimenting my handwriting and had bribed my stomach by baking my favorite pie—black raspberry.

Warmth and light pulsed from the fireplace. I felt better after my ride with Quartz. Mother sat in her favorite chair, sewing Mara’s veil. Ahir sprawled on the floor, snoring, and Father worked on bills. A true moment of family peace. And like all such moments, it was too good to stay true for long.

A knock on our door broke the silence. Mother glanced at me in confusion, then brightened. “It’s the printer! He said he might be done with the invitations tonight, and I told him to bring them over right away.”

Silk and lace filled her lap. Before she could untangle herself, I offered to answer the door. I suppressed a sigh. If the invitations were indeed here, I would have to stuff them into the envelopes, sealing them with wax. A tiresome chore.

I glanced through the peephole. Shadows covered the face of a man holding a bottle. Not the printer. He must be the local winemaker Mother commissioned to distill the special wedding wine. She spared no expense, and, for that, I was glad.

When I had sacrificed my magic, the power had transformed into diamonds. The Sitian Council had returned them all to me, and I had plenty of money to pay for all the wedding expenses—my gift to Mara and Leif.

I opened the door and froze in terror.

Valek, the Commander of Ixia’s personal assassin, waited outside. Only one reason for Valek to be here.

“Hello, Opal. Sorry for the surprise visit. Is this a bad time?” he asked with a pleasant tone and quizzical smile.

It was always a bad time to die.

Chapter Two

I GAPED AT VALEK. HE STOOD ON OUR FRONT STEP within killing distance.

“Opal.” My mother’s voice cut through my panic. “Don’t stand there like a simpleton. Invite your guest in.”

I stuttered a few words and backed up with numb legs. His smile widened as my mother approached. The need to warn her lodged under my ribs. My body’s functions had disconnected, scattering my thoughts.

“You must be Opal’s mother,” Valek said. He shook her hand. “Your cooking skills are legendary, Mrs. Cowan. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Commander invites you to cook for him in Ixia.”

The wrinkles on her face disappeared as she blushed, erasing years of worry and stress. “Please, call me Vyncenza, Mr…?”

“Valek.” His name erupted from my mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Opal, don’t be rude.”

“Mother, this is Valek.” I gestured. “The Commander’s—”

“Security Chief,” he said. “And this is one of our finest vintages of Ixian Ice Wine.” He presented the bottle to my mother.

“Thank you. This is my husband, Jaymes.”

My father shook his hand. Ahir woke and jumped to his feet. He grinned at Valek in awe as he pumped his arm. The whole surreal scene swirled in front of my eyes like snowflakes.

“But, Mother. Valek is—”

“Practically family. Come in. Come in. You must be hungry. Jaymes, open that cognac your brother sent us. Ahir, fetch our good glasses.” She escorted Valek to the couch and hustled off to the kitchen as Ahir and my father hurried to complete their tasks.

Valek caught me staring. He smiled. “Relax, Opal. I’m not here on official duty.”

My heart resumed beating. “Then why are you here?”

“Since I’m practically family, I thought I should meet your parents.”

A stretch of truth only my mother could believe. Valek was Yelena’s heart mate, and Yelena was Leif’s sister; ergo, once Leif married Mara, Leif’s family, including Valek, would be part of ours.

“What’s the real reason?” I asked.

“Later,” he said as my mother burst into the room carrying a tray loaded with food.

My father poured drinks and everyone settled in for a cozy chat. I listened to the small talk in amazement. Valek’s infamous reputation didn’t seem to bother anyone but me. And I should know better. Why would the Commander order my assassination when it was well-known my glass magic was gone? Unless he knew about my immunity? Only one other person in the world could make the same claim. And he sat next to me, sipping my uncle’s cognac.

But Yelena had promised not to tell anyone about my protection. Besides Kade, Zitora and Leif, no one else knew. Not my parents or siblings or friends. Not Valek. I trusted Yelena. Then why was he here? No idea. I would have to wait.

An eternity later, my mother finally stopped offering Valek our guest room when he promised to return the next day to tour the factory. I escorted him outside and down the lane to the gate.

“Spill,” I ordered.

Amusement flashed in his blue eyes as a smile quirked, softening the sharp features of his face. His pale skin almost glowed in the moonlight, an obvious contrast to the mostly darker-skinned Sitians, including me. Wearing a nondescript short gray cloak and black pants, he didn’t quite blend in, but he didn’t stand out, either. I gathered from his lack of disguise he wasn’t working undercover.

Valek scanned the empty street before he answered. “Yelena sent me to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“No idea. All she said was you needed help. Are you on a mission for the Council?”

I laughed. “No. Unless you consider wedding planning an act of espionage.”

“Hmm…My napkin folding skills are renowned. I can make a swan in seconds.”

“Don’t tell my mother or you’ll be folding napkins for days.”

“Days?” Valek’s left eyebrow rose.

“The guest list is up to five hundred names with more being added hourly.”

“Sounds like quite the party. However it’s not the reason Yelena sent me.”

I suspected why, but wanted to make sure. “What were her exact words?”

“She said, ‘Opal needs your help.’”

“That’s it?”

He nodded.

“You’ve traveled all this way without asking her for more details?”

“Of course.” His tone implied I lacked intelligence for asking such a question.

So sweet. He had absolute faith in his heart mate.

When the silence lengthened, he asked, “Does this have anything to do with losing your magic?”

I suppressed my immediate annoyance over the word “losing.” Why did everyone insist on using that word? Losing something implied a potential to find it again. Same with “lost.” So sorry you lost your magic, Opal. As if all I needed to do was search for it. No. It was gone. Never to return. Unless I used blood magic and that I wouldn’t do. Besides being illegal, it was far better to be without power than be addicted to it. Than to kill for it.

“Opal?”

Valek’s voice snapped me back to the problem at hand. Yelena sent him for a reason. She hadn’t shared my secret with him, but she thought I should. “I need some time. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Of course.” He bade me a good-night and disappeared into the shadows.

My night was far from restful. The decision to inform the Sitian Council about my immunity to magic flipped from yes to no and back again. My past dealings with the Council were rocky at best. Magicians who graduated from the Keep usually worked for the Council, but I had broken that tradition by going out on my own. This wouldn’t have been too big a problem, except I took my glass messengers with me.

The glass messengers that allowed magicians to communicate with each other over great distances in an instant. The glass messengers I no longer had the power to create, rendering a whole network of relay stations obsolete.

My new immunity could benefit the Council if they trusted me and if I trusted them. Big if. My tendency to keep certain abilities to myself had caused major trouble, resulting in the retirement of Master Magician Zitora Cowan, which left the Council with only two Master Magicians and the eleven elected members. One for each clan in Sitia.

The best course of action would be to stay far away from the Council. But what would I do? No glass magic and no desire to craft vases, bowls and tumblers. Planning Mara and Leif’s wedding for the next two and a half seasons would be torture. And I would know, having had personal experience with torture.

I had to face it. I couldn’t make this decision alone. Yelena had already figured it out, but why didn’t she come to help me? She was the liaison between Ixia and Sitia—a neutral third party and my friend. Instead, she sent Valek. The most dangerous man in the world.

A strange notion popped into my head. Was I the most dangerous woman in the world? I laughed. My few past attempts at stealth had mixed results—almost caught and almost killed. Not an impressive track record.

By morning, no sudden insight had flashed. Guess I would rely on my instincts. A truly terrifying prospect.

Valek arrived on time and was the perfect gentleman as my father showed him the factory and his laboratory. The half-completed experiments in the lab fascinated Valek. He asked many questions, and, by the end of the tour, Father helped Valek gather a slug of molten glass to play with. Wielding the metal tweezers in competent fingers, Valek shaped the slug into a lifelike daisy. I had forgotten Valek’s sculpting skills with rocks.

Blue eyes lit with enthusiasm, he said, “Opal, you never told me how extraordinary glass is.”

The few times we had interacted had been during crisis situations. No need to reminisce. Especially not with my parents nearby.

After my mother rushed off to prepare dinner and Father returned to puttering in his lab, Valek and I took a walk, heading in no particular direction.

“Have you thought about why Yelena sent me?” he asked.

“All night.”

“That would explain the dark circles under your eyes.”

Trust Valek to notice.

He paused. “But not why you look so…tired. Are you still having nightmares about them?”

Them, as in the seven glass prisons. Despite trapping those evil souls inside glass, their voices had haunted my dreams. The closer I had traveled to one, the louder the voice and the stronger the influence over me became. Valek had hidden them, telling no one their locations, but I could find them. Well, not anymore.

“No. Without magic my connection to them is gone,” I said.

“Then why so tired?” He kept his expression neutral.

“The incident in Hubal drained me. I’m still recovering.” The truth.

“I see.” He continued walking with a smooth stride. “I’ve read the reports about Hubal. Nasty business.”

“The records are supposed to be sealed. How did—”

“Because of Janco’s unfortunate and illegal involvement, I had full access to them.” Annoyance colored his tone.

Janco was one of Valek’s second-in-commands. “He shouldn’t get into trouble. I asked for his help. It’s not—”

“His fault?”

I nodded.

“Asking for help isn’t the problem. It never is. Janco should have brought your message to my attention, and we should have decided on the best course of action. Instead, he left without permission and without telling us where he went. Plus he made an illegal border crossing.”

“But…”

Valek waited.

“I hope you didn’t demote him.”

“What happened to him in Hubal was punishment enough. That blood magic is extremely potent. Yelena explained how it works, but I don’t fully understand why Ulrick and Tricky needed your blood.”

I glanced at him. Was he pretending to be confused? No way to tell. The man had the best poker face in the world.

“When I had my glass magic, if a magician attacked me, I could transform his magic into glass. Even if he didn’t attack, I could siphon…steal all his powers if I so desired. But Tricky discovered that I couldn’t drain him because he used my blood to increase his powers.”

“So your blood protected them from your siphoning magic?”

“Yes. At first, but when Zitora was dying and I was desperate, I realized my blood tattooed in their skin connected us. To draw off all their powers, I had to drain my own, as well.” I rubbed the scars on my arms. Not completely healed, the vertical ridges pulsed with an angry reddish-purple color, and resembled rungs on a ladder that climbed up the inside of my arms. A souvenir from Hubal.

“How much blood did they take from you?”

An odd question. And Mr. Stone Face only showed polite interest. “I don’t know. I lost track of the days. But I know they came every day with a suction device. Most of the time, I passed out before they were done.”

“According to Janco’s report, they held you for six days.” Valek’s comment seemed for his benefit instead of mine.

We walked for a while in silence. “At least one good thing came from your sacrifice. No more nightmares. And since you can no longer hear the souls in the glass prisons, it would be prudent for me to collect them, and rehide them so you won’t be in danger any longer.”

Surprised, I said, “You’d do that? Just for me?”

“Of course, you’re practically family.” He smiled. “Besides, my decision to spread them all over Sitia and Ixia was poor. With them together, I can monitor the prisons better.”

I gasped in mock horror. “You? Make a bad decision?”

He laughed. “All the time. Why do you think I’m so adept at escaping sticky situations? It’s because I constantly find myself in them.”

He was adept at so much more. I envied his skill and confidence. “The best decision you’ve made is hiding Gede’s prison in the snow cats’ den. No one is brave or stupid enough to go in there.”

Valek snorted with amusement. “So which one am I? Brave or stupid?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No worries, Opal. Actually it was easy to place that one in the den. I left a fresh-killed steer a half mile upwind and waited for the cats to leave.” He crossed his arms and tapped a finger. “I’ll need a better location for all seven prisons.”

I tried to imagine the perfect hiding spot, but couldn’t think of one. Our aimless route led us into the Avibian Plains, and I scanned the area for Quartz.

“Let’s get back to our original subject,” Valek said. “Why Yelena sent me. Any ideas?”

Logic warned me not to tell him, yet my heart yearned to trust him. “I think Yelena sent you here to help me make a decision.”

“Emerald green.”

“What?”

“You should wear an emerald-green-colored dress for your sister’s wedding.”

“Valek, I’m serious.”

“So am I. With your dark hair and eyes, you would look stunning in that color.”

We had traveled far enough into the plains to trigger the Sandseeds’ magical protection.

Valek studied me as the power swelled then died. I hadn’t decided what I should tell him, but it seemed my unconscious mind chose for me.

He waited. When the magic didn’t cause me to panic and insist we were lost, he asked, “Are you related to the Sandseed Clan?”

“Not yet.” Once Mara married Leif, a distant cousin to the Sandseeds, I would be connected to them if they considered marriage a legitimate relationship. Or perhaps not. In that case and with enough time, everyone in Sitia would be allowed to roam the plains at will. “I don’t think so.”

He chased the logic. “Do you have special permission to travel the plains?”

“Without Quartz, no.”

“I see.” His gaze turned inward. “Does the Sitian Council know?”

“Nope.”

Understanding flashed on his face. “Ah…the reason for Yelena’s request. Who else knows?”

“Zitora, Leif and Kade.”

“My advice, don’t tell the Council about your immunity. Instead, come work for me.”

Chapter Three

WORK FOR VALEK? A COMPLETE SHOCK AND NOT a course of action I had ever considered. Stunned silence built, but I couldn’t form a coherent response. He remained serious and he seemed in no hurry for a reply.

My emotions thawed from surprised to flattered that he had asked me to be a part of his corp. Curious, I asked, “What would I do for you? Spy on Sitia?”

“No. That’s my job.” He grinned. “I would like you to protect the Commander from magical attacks when I’m away. And to help with any incidents that are tainted with magic.”

“That’s rather vague.”

He shrugged. “Dealing with magic is unpredictable, and each time it’s been an…education. It also doesn’t match my schedule, so magical problems tend to arrive when I’m out of town, leaving Ari and Janco to handle them.”

I laughed at Valek’s queasy grimace. Janco hated anything magical. I became his new best friend the minute I could no longer access the blanket of power that surrounded our world and gave magicians their abilities.

“Is the Commander attacked often?” I asked.

“No. He hasn’t been in years, but I still worry. And you know the old cliché. Better safe…”

Than sorry. A good motto. One I should heed more often. While Valek’s offer tempted me, I knew deep down in my heart my new immunity should benefit Sitia. My home. And despite my troubles with the Council, their goals to keep Sitia safe matched mine.

Valek watched me. “You’ve made a decision.”

“I’m honored for the invitation, but will have to decline.”

He nodded as if expecting my answer. “If you change your mind, let me know. There is no time limit.”

Good to know. “Thank you.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“Tell Master Bloodgood and see what he recommends.”

“He’ll inform the Council and it could go one of two ways,” Valek said. “They’ll debate for seasons or they’ll quickly figure out how useful you are and put you right to work. Either way—” mischief danced in his eyes “—I may request your special help from time to time. Through Liaison Yelena of course. Wouldn’t want to upset the Council…for your sake.”

“As in you’d gladly upset them for another reason?”

“Of course. I like it when they’re buzzing in concern and arguing with each other. Don’t tell Yelena that or I’ll be in trouble.” He winked.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep it to myself.”

We turned around, heading back to the house. Halfway there, he asked, “Are you planning to tell your family and friends about your immunity?”

I considered. “I’d need to minimize the number of people who know in order to be more effective when I help the Council.”

“It’s a valid strategy, but as soon as you interact with a magician, he will learn of your immunity. Inevitably the word will spread. If you remain in Booruby, then you can probably keep your secret. Another thing to think about is, if you get sick or are injured, a healer can’t help you.”

The downside.

Valek crossed his arms and drummed his fingers. “I would suggest you send me a message if you’re in really bad shape. If you can.”

“Why?”

“I’ll send a medic down to help you. They are quite competent in healing without magic. Your healers are useless if their magic doesn’t work.”

His comment drove a point home. Because the Commander had forbidden magic in Ixia, the Ixians studied medicine in a way my own people didn’t. I hadn’t fully contemplated my new situation. “What else should I be aware of?” I asked.

He scanned the horizon. The rolling terrain of the plains covered the landscape like a blanket. Quartz grazed, munching on the long stalks of grass. Every so often she would glance at us, but she remained on the hillock as if she sensed I didn’t need her.

“Frustration.” Valek finally answered my question. “Knowing magic is being aimed at me, but not knowing what type drives me crazy.”

“Why?”

“In a few situations, I didn’t know if a magician was trying to kill me, warn me off or trying to help. It’s important for deciding on my response. Sometimes it’s obvious what they’re attempting. If the person next to you suddenly freezes, it’s not hard to figure out. It’s when I’m alone that it’s harder. Another frustrating aspect is not being able to pick up where the magic is coming from. Unless the magician is in the room, I can’t determine a source. Perhaps you’ll have better luck.”

Doubtful. “Any other problems?”

“It can be exhausting when powerful magic is directed at you. It’s like trudging through syrup. It sticks to you and pulls on your muscles. It’s hard to move and to breathe.” He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “There’re benefits, too. You’ll know who is a magician and who isn’t. You won’t be fooled by an illusion or be physically or mentally controlled by another. No one can read your thoughts. Although—” he smiled “—to truly take advantage, you’re going to have to work on keeping your feelings from showing on your face.”

“That bad?”

“To me, yes. You could play poker until you stop losing, or perhaps a few acting lessons would help you. Especially since pretending you’re affected by magic can be to your advantage. When you return to the Citadel, talk to Fisk, he’ll find you the perfect teacher.”

Even Valek knew Fisk, the beggar boy turned leader of the Citadel’s Helper’s Guild. I remembered I owed him a…special visit for the ambush he had set up. He had been working for Master Bloodgood at the time, but I still wanted to talk to 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.

Another quirk of the null shield being kept from the Council 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-threatening 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 stories 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 slamming 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 portion 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 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 immunity, 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 floor. “Do you think you’re ready? You don’t even have magic to protect you.”

I debated. The temptation to inform her about my immunity 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 promised 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 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 wedding 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 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 mother.

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 Citadel, 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 flying—fast and light. Since magic had become tangible to me, the experience 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.

Weaving through the busy downtown quarter, I searched for a reputable inn. The sun teetered on the edge of the western 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.

I rubbed a fingertip along my lower lip, remembering the light kiss he’d given me before turning himself in to the authorities. 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 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 puppydog 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 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 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. Located in the far northwest quadrant of the city, it occupied a huge area, extending five blocks wide by eight blocks deep. Its sheer outer walls were topped with coils of barbed wire. Glints of sunlight reflected 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 flurry 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 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 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 flowed 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 customer, 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.”

“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?”

“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.

“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.”

“Me?”

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

“Who?” Partners could be so annoying!

“Councilor Moon.”