Spy Glass

10

“DID I HEAR YOU RIGHT?” I LEANED ON THE TABLE, propping my elbows near the edge. “Me? Weren’t you listening when I described Finn’s speed and his goons and that serum? I can’t fight him.”

“Then why are you in Fulgor?” Valek asked.

“I told you.”

“How committed are you?”

“I’m here. And I have blueprints of the prison, files on all the hotshots—”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Very committed.”

“Then why are you helping Councilor Moon? Why did you purchase this building? Why are you hanging out with your friends?”

I didn’t answer.

“Halfhearted spies tend to die, Opal. In fact, you’re lucky Finn decided you weren’t a danger to him or the prison. Otherwise, you’d be dead by now.”

“I’m making progress. Being Councilor Moon’s aide gives me access to data I wouldn’t normally have. It’s just spying, lying and deceiving others go against my nature.”

“Then I’ll ask again. Why are you here?” His matter-of-fact tone irritated me, but he continued as if having a pleasant conversation. “Why not ask someone to find the information for you?”

“I’m being smart. I can’t handle Finn—”

Valek raised his eyebrow. I hadn’t answered his question.

“It is too important to trust anyone else,” I said.

“Now we’re making progress.”

I groaned and rested my forehead in my hands, closing my eyes. Was it lecture Opal day? First Devlen, now Valek. Did I miss the announcement? All I needed was my mother to pop up and berate me for not delivering the wedding samples to Mara for the mess to be complete.

Valek said, “And you’re right.”

I was right? I glanced up.

“It is too vital to send another in your place, but you lack the skills for this type of occupation. Being able to work undercover and hide your intentions and emotions doesn’t happen overnight. You can’t just rush off and jump right in.” He snorted with amusement. “Well, you can and you did, but that’s the fastest way to blow your mission.”

“I recognized my inexperience and sent for help,” I said. Which brought us back to the beginning. “I wanted you to keep Finn occupied, while I talked to Ulrick.”

“A reasonable plan.”

“But?”

“Think about it in glassmaking terms. You’re given the task of producing a complicated sculpture for the Sitian Council Hall. It’s a difficult job and you’re going to need an assistant. Who would you rather have helping you? Your father or me?”

My father. Why? He had over thirty years of glassmaking experience, while Valek had spent one day playing with the glass. So who would Valek sneak around a maximum security prison with? One of his corp, like Janco, or me?

I mulled over his comments. His question about my commitment now made sense. I’d been pretending, playing dress up, and in the process sacrificed my magic and gotten Janco into trouble. In order to do it right, I needed to know things—things only Valek could teach me.

Valek watched me.

“Will you teach me?” I asked.

“You’re willing to give everything up?”

I swallowed, thinking of Kade. “Everything?”

“For now. The rest of your life is on hold.”

“How long?”

“Four months. Maybe less. You did pretty well so far, considering you’re a rookie.”

“Then, yes. I’m in one hundred percent.”

Valek smiled. “Good. First, send Kade a reply, asking him not to come.” He pointed at the unopened letter on the table.

I had forgotten about it. Sealed with wax, the message appeared to be secured.

Valek shrugged. “I was bored.”

“Second?”

“We’ll review your visit to Devlen, and decide what to ask him next.”

“And the rest of the time?”

“Spy training.” He grinned.

“You don’t really call it that, do you?”

“No.”

Kade’s sweet letter almost broke my resolve. He had planned to stop in Fulgor on his way back to his home in the Stormdance lands, spending the rest of the warming season with me. In my carefully worded reply, I asked him not to come. Instead, I told him I would meet up with him at the end of the warm season for Mara and Leif’s wedding in Booruby.

One half of me expected an angry reply, the other waited for him to show up on my doorstep.

Valek moved into my spare bedroom. We boarded up all the windows on the ground floor for security and privacy, and Valek converted a window on the ground floor into a hidden exit to the alley behind the building. He also rigged a way for us to descend from the second story.

“Always have alternate escape routes. The more, the merrier,” he had said.

He brought in various gadgets and weapons and equipment for training, filling the ground floor with them. He even ordered me to fire up a kiln and return to working with glass, insisting the effort of creating would enhance my training.

I asked Faith to begin interviewing new assistants for the Councilor. In the meantime, I continued to help Tama and I joined Nic and Eve every morning. Evenings I worked with Valek, sometimes late into the night.

After reviewing my conversation with Devlen, Valek sent me to Dawnwood for another chat. It was three weeks into the warming season and the late-afternoon sun warmed my shoulders. Fourteen days had passed since my previous visit. Even though Devlen worked on the construction site next to the training yard, I hadn’t talked to him.

And since Finn and his goons hadn’t shown up at all, my security escorts had stopped. Although I was quite sure Valek tailed me just in case.

A strange little sensation bubbled in my chest as I headed toward the prison. Expectation? Dread? Worry? None of them. It was more like pleasant anticipation. Oh joy.

Some experiences you just don’t get used to; being searched was one of them. After doing the entrance dance, a correctional officer led me to a visiting room. I jerked to a stop. No bars. A square table with two chairs had been placed in the center of the small room.

“Twenty minutes,” the CO said and left.

Surprised, I scanned the room. The bare white walls appeared to be solid. Except for the door on the opposite wall, nobody could see in. Devlen entered with Pellow a step behind.

Devlen sat at the table and Pellow remained by the door.

I pulled out the other seat and perched on the edge. “New room?”

“More trust,” he said. Devlen rested his arms on the table, leaning forward. “You look tired. You shouldn’t work so hard.”

“How do you know I haven’t been hitting the taverns at night?”

He flashed me a grin. “Give me a little credit. First, you’re not the type and second, I think you’ve been playing with Gressa’s toys. Have you fired up one of her, or more accurately, one of your kilns yet?”

Alarmed, I asked, “How did you know?”

“The construction workers like to gossip. A lot. Their incessant chatter is a nice diversion from the mindless labor.” Devlen waited for an answer.

“I just started.”

“Good. It’ll help you heal.”

“Are you going to turn all Story Weaver on me? If so, then I have other things to do.”

“No.”

“Thank fate.” I drew a breath. “I wanted to ask you about…Hubal.”

He stiffened for a second then relaxed. “Go on.”

I glanced at the CO, then met Devlen’s concerned gaze. “I was a…guest for a number of days, and I’d like to know if there were any…extras left.” Too cryptic?

A ridge of flesh puckered between his eyebrows as he tried to follow my hint.

“Since I donated so much…money to my host, I wonder if he spent it all or had some left over.” In other words, what had Tricky done with all my blood?

Understanding lit his face followed by chagrin. “Unfortunately our host didn’t trust me with his plans. He hadn’t since I left him behind in Thunder Valley. Remember?”

“I’ll never forget.” I had thought Tricky, Devlen and the others had been safely locked away when Devlen ambushed me. I rubbed my thighs. Scars from his sword still marked them and my upper arms.

Sadness pulled the corners of his mouth down. “And when he offered me some of your money and I declined, he became even more suspicious of my intentions.” He cupped his chin in his hand as he visited the past.

He would figure it out soon. That was the problem with asking him about my blood. Devlen claimed to be on my side. This would be a test.

Dropping his hand, he said with a sudden eagerness, “That is why you’re in Fulgor. If there’s money left over, you could—”

“Don’t say it.” The possibility of me regaining my magic was slim to none. No sense getting my hopes up for a tiny chance. “Besides, I may not have any legal right to it, and what if I start desiring more? That’s too high a price to pay.” Using my blood to gain power could have the same influence over me as blood magic.

“It’s a shame you don’t have any powerful friends to help you. One that has both magical and political influence would be ideal in this situation,” he teased.

I slapped the table. Yelena! She could monitor me and ensure I didn’t become addicted by pulling the blood from me if I did. But then I sobered. Since it was my own blood, would the magic work the same? Would I have to inject it into my skin or into my bloodstream?

Devlen rested his warm hand on my fingers. “See? I’m helping you. Maybe you won’t wait so long to visit me again.” He squeezed.

Fire sizzled up my arm. I jerked my hand away in surprise.

“Sorry,” he said, as Pellow stepped forward and yanked Devlen from the chair.

“Time’s up, Dev. You know the rules,” Pellow said. “No touching.”

Devlen resisted for a moment, looking at me in pain. “I thought you were no longer afraid of me.”

I shot to my feet. “I’m not. I…”

Pellow shoved Devlen through the door. The CO glanced at me over his shoulder. “The rules are to protect you, ma’am.”

The door slammed shut. My thoughts whirled as the skin on my right hand tingled. What the hell was that? He probably just hit one of those pressure points by accident. I dismissed it.

Since Devlen had no knowledge about the location of my blood, I had, at least, accomplished my task. No need to visit him anymore. I knocked on the other entrance and my CO escorted me from the prison.

On the way home, I felt out of sorts and not happy with the way our session had ended. I wanted to reassure him. Me? Reassure Devlen? I almost laughed out loud, except another part of my brain planned to visit him again.

Unfortunately, time was a precious commodity. I kept my daily routine so I didn’t draw suspicion, but Valek kept me busy every spare minute.

He taught me about balance. We performed endless numbers of hand-eye coordination drills. He hounded me about my reflexes until I reacted to the slightest movement. I learned how to use a blowpipe, how to pick complex locks and how to climb walls, repeating exercises to a point where they ran together and my muscles shook with fatigue.

I discovered this type of clandestine operation involved the tools of an assassin. Poisons, Curare and drugs like the one Finn had used on me. The goal was to enter and leave without being seen. Too bulky and heavy, my sais would be left behind. Instead, I practiced my aim with throwing knives and darts. Valek drilled me in knife fighting. I added a dagger to my arsenal, since a longer blade would be impractical.

We discussed strategy and tactics until my throat burned. Then he led me into the streets where I learned the language of the lie—the slight glance down, the tension in the lips, the tiny shrug of the shoulders, the hand that tapped nervously against a belt. Body language, verbal cues, and clues—I struggled to keep from laughing when the lies were so clear. Everything I learned to spot, I learned to hide.

During our early forays into secured buildings, my nerves buzzed with excitement and fear. My heart performed acrobatics in my chest. But repetition was the key. Eventually, my body stilled and I could think and strategize without panicking.

A few skills were harder to perfect, and after a particular frustrating session trying to lie convincingly to him, I asked Valek why he bothered with me.

“Don’t you miss Yelena? Don’t you have better things to do?” I asked. I could think of a million other tasks I’d rather do. First I would find Kade. It had been four weeks, and he hadn’t replied or arrived in Fulgor. I worried about him and about his reaction to my message.

“Of course I miss her. She’s in Ixia with the Commander while I’m here,” Valek said, leaning his “stick” against the wall.

He used the wretched pointer to tap me at the location my body or my face revealed a lie. The middle of my forehead ached from multiple pokes.

“Isn’t being away all the time hard on your relationship?” I asked.

“No amount of time or distance can break us apart. Besides, Yelena would kill me if I allow you to go on a mission you aren’t prepared for.”

“Two seasons isn’t much time.” I sighed. Our goal was to be done with this business before Mara and Leif’s wedding at the end of the warm season. And the constant worry about something happening to my blood before I could find it rubbed on my nerves.

“You’re making excellent progress. And I must confess I have ulterior motives.”

“Really?”

“I’m hoping all this training will be put to good use.”

I smiled. “As in, I’ll enjoy sneaking around and playing spy so much that I’ll agree to work for you?”

“Exactly. Now tell me you love me.” He picked up his stick.

“I do love you, Valek.”

He gawked. “You do?”

I laughed. “Of course, you’re practically family.” He relaxed.

“But that also means I hate you, too. It’s part of being in a family.”

“I see.”

“And right now, I’m leaning more toward hate. Because if you poke me with that horrid stick one more time, I’m going to take it from you and whack you over the head with it.”

He slid his feet into a fighting stance. “You can try.”

“Gotcha!” I smirked. “You believed me!”

“Well done. Take tomorrow night off. You earned it.”

I started to protest, but clamped my lips together. Needing a break, I mulled over the possibilities. I could visit Devlen, or have dinner at the Pig Pen with Nic and Eve, or take Quartz for a long ride. Interesting how I listed Devlen first.

“I’m glad you came back,” Devlen said.

We sat in the same visiting room with the table and chairs, but this time Pellow cuffed Devlen’s wrists to the chair’s arms.

“I wanted to be here sooner,” I said.

He brightened. “You did?”

“I wanted to explain—”

“No need. I understand. After all the pain I caused you…” He grimaced. “I still haven’t done enough for you. I don’t know if I’ll ever do enough to compensate for my actions.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. You surprised me, that’s all.” Which was true. I didn’t need to mention the fire.

“I’ve been thinking of ways to help you with your…money problem.” He turned to Pellow. “Can you give us a minute?”

The CO’s face creased into a mixture of amusement and shock.

“I broke up that fight yesterday and saved Sewer’s job,” Devlen said to him. “You can let me have one minute.”

Pellow hesitated a moment more, then nodded. He said to me, “Yell if you need me. I’ll be on the other side of this door.” Then he left.

“Sewer?” I asked.

“One of the officers. He smells awful.” Devlen lowered his voice. “That’s not important. Finding your blood is. Here’s my idea. I lose points every time I break the rules, and if I become a problem, I’ll be sent to Wirral. Once there, I can—”

“No.” He wanted to be transferred so he could talk to Tricky and Ulrick. “No. Do not become a problem.” Why not? I had complained over his light sentence.

“But—”

“They didn’t trust you on the outside, why would they talk to you in prison? Besides, I have another way.” I could see he wasn’t convinced, but the thought of him inside Wirral upset me. “Promise me you won’t cause trouble.”

“Why not? I can help you. I want to help you.”

“I need you here.” I almost smiled at his puzzlement.

“Why?”

Good question. “Because I can’t visit my Story Weaver if he’s incarcerated in Wirral.”

His confusion turned into utter astonishment. I couldn’t erase my statement, and I suspected I had gotten myself in deeper with Devlen. I hoped I wouldn’t regret it.

Pellow entered, announcing the end of our session. He unlocked Devlen’s wrists from the chair.

“Promise me,” I said before they could leave.

Devlen grinned. “You have my word.”

His word. When had I started accepting it? Perhaps all those lessons in body language had given me more of an insight. Or not. If I could learn how to lie with conviction, Devlen could, as well. I stopped second-guessing myself. Nothing but a headache to be gained for it.

After I left the prison, I headed toward Justamere Farm. Located on the western edge of Fulgor, the boarding and training stable was within walking distance of my new home. Quartz greeted me at the pasture’s fence. A shy Thoroughbred stood next to her. She had made a friend.

I loved the stable. Clean, neat and in good repair, the buildings housed a number of horses and an indoor training ring as well as one outside. With another hour of sunlight left in the day, I decided to saddle Quartz and do a few practice jumps.

If Devlen was my Story Weaver, then Quartz was my best friend. Spending time with her, I let all my worries and frustrations melt away. A creature of power and energy, she flew over the hurdles with ease. I needed to imagine dealing with my own problems the same way. Stay on task, keep a steady pace, launch at just the right time and land without upsetting your stride.

By the time I met up with Nic and Eve at the Pig Pen, the evening rush had subsided.

“’Bout time,” Nic complained.

Eve plucked a horse hair from my cloak. “She’s been hanging out at the stables.” She peered at me. “What else have you been doing at nights?”

“Breaking and entering, petty theft, shoplifting and drunk and disorderly until I pass out,” I said. All true except the D and D, and I returned everything I stole.

“Funny,” Nic said, but he didn’t smile. “Maybe we should switch our schedule and start working nights. Sounds like quite the party.”

“I thought you did work nights,” I said.

“Not anymore.” Eve shook her head. “You’ve been distracted during our morning training. Nic gave you three good openings to slam him yesterday, but you missed them. Obviously you’re not paying as close attention at work as well. Councilor Moon has her own guards now. All trustworthy and with excellent records.” She swigged her ale. “We’re assuming your attention is focused on something more important. Your side project?”

“Sorry I’ve been distracted.”

“Should we be worried?” Nic asked.

“No. Everything’s progressing well.” I waved Ian over and ordered a meal. “What are you doing now? Patrolling the streets?”

“Sometimes,” Eve said. “Our unit tends to fill in where needed, depending on what’s going on.”

“Today we got to watch prisoners build a wall at HQ. Here’s to another thrilling day on the job.” Nic raised his mug as if making a toast. “One inmate actually tried to talk to me. Gasp.”

Despite the sarcasm, I sensed another current under Nic’s words. “What did he want?”

“He asked about you, Opal. Seemed concern about your welfare.”

Devlen. “That’s was nice,” I tried.

“Yeah, downright decent of him. Something you don’t see too often in convicted criminals.”

“Okay, Nic. Spit it out,” I ordered. “What’s really the matter?”

He bunched up his napkin and tossed it onto the bar. “I don’t like being kept out of the loop, and when I meet a prisoner who knows more than I do about someone who is supposed to be my friend, I get a little testy.”

“He does know more about me than you, Nic. Probably more than anyone except Kade.” And Valek. There was no hiding with Valek. Yelena may be the Soulfinder, but he was the Soulseer. “That prisoner was one of the men at Hubal.”

Nic looked surprised. “What’s he doing in Dawnwood? He should be at Wirral.”

“It’s complicated, but he redeemed himself in the end.”

“Is that why you’ve been visiting him?” Eve asked.

Alarmed, I asked, “Have you been following me?”

“No need.” A half smile played on her lips.

I groaned. “The gossip network strikes again. I forgot you have friends who work at Dawnwood.”

“And it upsets them when the Councilor’s assistant starts visiting a prisoner,” Nic added. “I suggest you stop.”

An unpalatable thought. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Eve seemed curious, but Nic glared.

“He’s the only one who understands how it feels to suddenly be without magic.”

“We understand. We don’t have magic—”

“And you never did. It’s different, Nic.” I sighed. He didn’t quite comprehend. “Look at it this way. You’re a strong man. You can lift heavy things and swing that hunk of metal you call a sword with one hand. What if I took away your strength? You can’t carry a barrel of water on your shoulder or draw your sword to defend yourself. Who would you identify with? Your brother, who can still heft a casket of wine, or Eve, who never could, or me, who also lost it?”

The lines on his face smoothed. “All right. I see your point. I still feel like I’m out of the loop. Like one of those neighbors.”

My turn to be confused. “What neighbors?”

“The people who live next to a crazy psychopath and tell us, ‘He was such a good neighbor. Quiet. No trouble,’” Nic said in a high squeaky voice.

“How about if I promise to tell you about the bodies buried under my factory before security digs them up? Will that make you happy?”

“Ecstatic,” he deadpanned.

Eve changed the subject and we were soon laughing and joking. As the evening drew to a close, they walked me home.

“Are you watching prisoners tomorrow?” I asked.

“Sort of,” Eve said. “We’re escorting a trio from the Greenblade Clan from our holding cells to Wirral.”

“Best part is seeing them gape in horror when they realize what their future holds,” Nic said. “Some break down and bawl.”

“I’d cry, too,” I said as a chill zipped along my spine.

“Don’t feel too bad about those three. They discovered a way to extract the venom from Greenblade bees. They sold the poison to others. At first, the murders appeared to be accidents. Poor man, stung by a lethal bee.” He tsked.

“How did they catch them?” I asked.

“Greed and stupidity,” Eve said. “They sold the venom to anyone who could afford the price, without thought to where the murder would be committed. After the second bee sting in the middle of the city where there are no bees, the authorities became suspicious.”

“Greed and stupidity are our friends,” Nic said. “It’s amazing how creative and inventive criminals can be, but eventually greed, sheer stupidity or both will bring them down.”

The next month passed in a blur. At one point, while clinging to the side of a building in the middle of the night, I wondered what the hell I had been thinking to agree to this training.

One positive thing Valek had been right about was working with the glass. It helped me focus my mind. When the kiln had been hot enough to melt sand, soda ash and lime into glass, I gathered a slug of molten glass on a pontil iron and basked in the bright glow. Such potential locked inside just waiting for me.

The orange light pulsed as if beckoning me. Come on, Opal. Mold me, shape me, it cooed. I’ve been a constant throughout your entire life. I’ve never betrayed or harmed you.

Even though I hadn’t touched glass in seasons, my skills returned as if there hadn’t been a gap. Being able to thumb a bubble for the first time in my life, I crafted a few small and delicate vases. Then I made glass flowers to set inside it. A tiny spark of joy returned to my soul as I experimented with my rediscovered talent.

I also admitted to myself that my mother had been right. My refusal to work with the glass had been moping.

Eventually, my glass pieces filled my shelves and I crafted gifts for others. I made a paperweight for Tama’s messy desk. I shaped a fist-sized ball, then filled the inside with a bunch of small bubbles. It resembled boiling water that had been frozen. Satisfied with the paperweight, I cut in a jack line and cracked it off into the annealing oven to cool.

“Solved all your problems yet?” Valek asked as I cleaned up.

“No. But I decided what I want for dinner,” I said.

“It’s a start.”

As we continued training, fatigue settled into my tired muscles, and each exercise sucked more energy from me. At this rate, I wouldn’t have the strength to accomplish the mission. And the sense of time running out loomed over me. Each day spent preparing was one day lost. And another day for something bad to happen to my blood.

With only forty-five days remaining until Mara’s wedding, my impatience boiled over. “Look, all I need are the basics,” I said to Valek that evening. “Once I find my blood, I won’t be doing all this sneak stuff.”

He sat at my kitchen table. The prison’s blueprints had been spread out in front of him. Valek displayed no emotion. Which wasn’t a good thing. I had learned to correlate his annoyance level to his lack of sentiment. The greater his ire, the flatter his tone.

“And what will you be doing instead?” he asked.

I hesitated. “Probably helping the Council.”

“In what capacity?”

“I don’t know. Whatever they need, I guess.” Wrong answer.

“Then I should bill the Council for your training. Because they will not hesitate to take advantage of your immunity, and assign you to jobs that require you to sneak around.”

I opened my mouth, but closed it as his stony gaze fixed on me.

“I suggest you decide what exactly you are going to do. Indecisive probablys usually lead to trouble.” He returned to studying the blueprints, ignoring me.

Sitting in a chair opposite him, I considered his comments. If I dug deep enough, I would find the nugget of hope that I would reclaim my blood and my powers. Then I could return to making glass messengers and being able to help a wild magician to avoid flaming out. And if I didn’t? My thoughts shied from that scenario.

Valek and I spent another seven days training, watching Wirral and poring over the blueprints. We donned disguises and followed the correctional officers home from the prison. The effort netted us names to match faces, and I identified Finn’s goons—Erik, Carrl and Lamar. No surprise that all were hotshots.

As the days passed, Valek tested me on spotting a disguise. It was one skill that came easily to me. With my artistic background, I held the advantage. Even though confidence in my abilities grew, I still worried about the amount of time we used. My sister’s wedding was thirty-eight days away and I needed at least eight to travel home. I feared thirty days wouldn’t be enough.

My fears turned into reality when Valek threw his quill across the table. I looked at him.

He crossed his arms. “I never thought I would say this, but it’s impossible.”

My stomach flipped. “What is?”

“Getting into Wirral. There isn’t a way in without being caught. We’re done.”