Spy Glass

17

“YOU HAVE WHAT?” IRYS ASKED IN OUTRAGE.

I explained to her about my immunity.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Her loud question caused several guests to stop their conversations and glance our way.

“Many reasons. I promise I’ll tell you everything en route to the Citadel,” I said, getting to my feet.

Sensing something was wrong, Kade and Valek joined us.

“Can you be ready to leave in an hour?” Irys asked me.

“Yes.” I kicked off my shoes and grabbed them.

Kade opened his mouth, but I pulled him along with me as I hurried to my room. Changing into travel clothes and packing a few things, I summarized the crisis for Kade. “I know. I’m rushing off again. But how can I not?”

“You can’t.”

“Moonlight’s a Sandseed horse. Come with me?” I asked.

“I won’t be much help. And I’m needed on the coast,” he said.

Although I expected his answer, regret touched me. “I get credit for asking you. Remember that.” I poked him on the shoulder to emphasize my point. He latched onto my wrist and drew me in close.

“And I want a rain check on that dress.” He kissed me with a fierce passion that left me dizzy. He stepped back. “Remember that.”

My lips tingled. “Won’t be a problem.”

When I finished gathering my travel gear, I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. “Please make my apologies to my family. My mother’s going to be livid.”

“I’ll explain it to her,” Kade said.

“I’m glad you understand.”

He gave me a sad smile. “I do. Yet inside—” he pointed to his chest “—I’d rather you were coming with me to the coast.”

We joined Irys, Yelena and Valek by the horses. Both Kiki and Quartz had been saddled and were ready to go.

A slight brush of magic touched me as Yelena communicated with Kiki. When she finished, I asked her what name the horses had given me.

She chewed on her lower lip. “They aren’t very imaginative.”

“Glass Lady?” I guessed.

“No.” Yelena cocked her head, studying me. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“You haven’t reclaimed it yet.”

“That doesn’t make sense. How complicated can it be? You just said they’re not imaginative.”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe why they chose that name. When you’re ready, I will tell you.” End of discussion.

Before I could protest, Valek said, “We’ll send word if we find anything.” He was referring to my blood.

“Thanks.” I hopped up on Quartz.

Irys and I said a final round of goodbyes and then turned the horses toward the Avibian Plains. When we reached the tall grasses, Irys spurred Kiki into the gust-of-wind gait and Quartz followed. The plains distorted around us as we sailed over the ground.

For the next two days, Kiki and Quartz set the pace. They stopped when they were tired, and nudged us when they wished to go. Their efforts brought us to the Citadel three days earlier than a normal horse.

We arrived in the early morning, shot through the south entrance gate and turned west. The Citadel’s streets flowed under Quartz’s hooves. Surprised shouts followed as she dodged pedestrians. Amazed at Quartz’s speed and agility after two days of hard riding, I hung on to her mane.

Zigzagging through the intricate maze of the residential quarters, I hoped we would arrive in time to save the boy.

Kiki and Quartz stopped near an entrance to an alley too narrow for them to fit.

Irys jumped to the ground. “Come on. This way.”

I hopped down. Stains and graffiti marred the white marble walls, and weeds grew through the sidewalk’s cracks. Grime coated everything. I hesitated, wondering what to do about the horses. Quartz pushed me forward. They would be fine.

As I followed Irys through the alley, the stench of rot filled my nose. I avoided the puddles of muck and heaps of trash. The passageway ended in a small courtyard. A group of people huddled on the far side.

I recognized Fisk, Master Bain Bloodgood and a few magicians from the Keep. They turned to us. Fisk transformed from worried to confused, but Bain scowled at me in displeasure. I wondered if Irys had communicated with him regarding my immunity. During the trip to the Citadel, I had explained my reasons for keeping it a secret to Irys.

“Why is Opal here?” Fisk asked. His voice had deepened since I last talked with him. He had cut his light brown hair short, and was now as tall as my brother.

The Master Magicians ignored his question.

“Status?” Irys asked Bain.

“The boy inside this dwelling is on the verge of flaming out,” Bain said. “He has pulled a huge amount of power to him, blocking anyone, including me, from getting close.”

“Doesn’t that mean he has control of his power?” I asked.

“No. The barrier he made is out of fear and it is about to rip apart.”

A disaster for magicians. Their magic came from the blanket of power that surrounded the world. If one of them yanked too hard, it will bunch and warp, creating havoc for the magicians, and killing the person responsible.

“How can I help?” I asked.

“You need to go in there and talk to him. Teach him to slowly release the magic back into the source,” Irys said.

Apprehension crawled like little spider legs over skin. “Teach him how? I don’t have any magic.”

Fisk said, “She can’t get in there. Let me try to talk to him again.”

“He’s losing it.” Irys’s face paled. “Think of the magic as a balloon filled with air. Get rid of the air without popping the balloon. Go now!”

In a panic, I ran to the doorway and bounced off a curtain of magic. After a second to recover my senses, I found the magical barrier. Pushing my hands and arms into the power, I leaned my weight forward and shoved my way into the building. I felt as if I swam in invisible mud. Every step was an effort. I fought to draw a breath. Could I drown in magic?

Struggling against the thickness, I searched the house. Damaged tables, chairs without legs and soiled bedding littered the floor. Cobwebs hung, dust motes floated and broken glass crunched under my boots. Not a home, but a shelter for those without homes. It explained Fisk’s presence.

My muscles protested the abuse. My lungs seemed to fill with magic, expanding in my chest and wheezing through my throat. I kept checking rooms until I found the boy huddled in a corner. Although I wouldn’t use the word boy to describe the wild creature who gawked at me with an exhausted terror.

His tangled, greasy hair reached the floor. Bony knees poked through tattered pants. The rest of his ragged clothes were inadequate for the cold weather. I guessed his age to be around thirteen.

He trembled and sweat dripped from his jaw. I held my hands wide, showing him I was unarmed before I crouched to his level.

“I’m here to help.” I kept my voice even, suppressing the desire to pant.

A wary, doubtful look replaced his fear. His lips whitened as he pressed them together, matching his sickly pallor. He clutched what appeared to be an apron and a teapot to his upper body.

“You’re not in trouble. You have grabbed a huge amount of magic. Can you feel it?”

He nodded.

The panic in my heart eased a bit. “Don’t let go. You need to hold on to it a little longer. Can you do that?”

This time he hesitated.

“It’s important.”

His gaze slid to a battered sleeping mat next to him. A bedraggled stuffed dog with a stained pink bow around its neck lay on a dirty pillow.

I played a hunch. “If you let go, who will take care of her?”

Alarm flashed on his face.

“Hold on for her, okay?”

This time he responded with a determined nod, tightening his grip on the items in his arms. The gesture gave me an idea.

“Imagine that the magic around us is tea, and it has filled your teapot. If you don’t pour the tea out, it will break the pot.”

“Too much tea,” he agreed with a strained high-pitched voice.

“You need to send the tea slowly through the spout, releasing it back to the sky. When the pot is empty, everyone will be safe.” I hoped.

He closed his eyes. The magic thickened. It pushed me over, clogged my nose and pressed me flat to the floor. Fear spread inside me. Could I survive a flameout at this distance? My lungs heaved, burning with the effort to draw in air.

Black-and-white spots swirled in my vision like ashes above a dead fire. The room spun and the world ceased to be for a while. Awareness of my surroundings crept in. With each blink of my eyes, the blackness faded and pale colors returned, turning into harsh brightness. Without magic blocking my nose, the powerful acidic smell of urine invaded. I sat up.

The boy was slumped over. His teapot had rolled away, but appeared to be intact. I touched his neck, searching for a pulse. Nothing. Poor kid. I covered my face with my hands, letting regret flow through me.

Eventually, I lifted my head. I had survived a flameout, and the building remained intact. I always imagined major destruction whenever a magician talked about losing control. My visions of collapsed walls and piles of rubble had been way off the mark.

Irys rushed into the room with Fisk right behind her. She slid to a stop next to the boy and laid a hand on his head. He moaned and I jumped at the sound.

“Holy snow cats! Is he alive?” A stupid question, but my wits had scattered.

“Of course. He’s just exhausted.” Irys frowned. “And mal-nourished, and probably sick.” She scooped him up with ease. “I need to get him to the infirmary.” She aimed for the door.

“I’m so glad he lived through a flameout.”

Irys paused at the threshold. “He never lost control. Thanks to you.” She swept from the room.

I rocked back on my heels, letting the information register. I glanced at Fisk. He stood in the middle of the squalor, peering around with pain. His eyes shone with unshed tears.

“I didn’t know about this place,” he said. “I could have helped them, but they probably scattered when Master Bloodgood and his magicians arrived.”

“Won’t they come back?” I gestured to the piles of possessions.

“Maybe.” He swiped his eyes. “I’ll post a few watchers and if they return, we’ll offer them better shelter and jobs.”

I picked up the boy’s apron and teapot, figuring he would want them when he woke.

Fisk nodded with approval. “They’re probably his mother’s. My guess is she’s either dead or has abandoned him, leaving him at the mercy of his abusive father. Which would explain his fear of men.”

I pointed to the stuffed dog. “I think he might have a sister.”

“If she shows up here, I’ll make sure she knows where he is.”

Without the distraction of magic, the horrible living conditions and filth assaulted my senses. As we left, I asked, “Fisk, how does this happen? Aren’t there agencies in the Citadel to help these people?”

“There is one. And they are so overwhelmed it’s ridiculous.” He sighed. “Believe it or not, some of these people choose to live this way. They refuse all help. Others just don’t know where to go.”

“You’ve done a lot.”

“As you can see, not near enough. I tried spreading the word, but there are these little groups who stay isolated. Plus I’m dealing with vicious rumors.”

“Really? I’ve heard nothing but praise.”

“That’s in your world. This world—” he stabbed a finger toward the ground “—views us differently. They’re either jealous, afraid or spiteful.”

“What are they afraid of? You’re helping people.”

“They listen to the rumors and the wild stories of us selling kids as slaves, smuggling drugs, organizing prostitution and kids being forced to work for me,” he said in frustration. “It’s hard to reason with a frightened child.” He stepped toward the door, being careful not to crush anything under his feet.

I followed his example. Concentrating on where I walked, I bumped right into him. He had stopped. I met his intense gaze.

A thin ribbon of fear curled in my chest. “What?”

“You reasoned with a terrified kid. Saved him and the blanket of power.” Fisk gestured to the sleeping mats. “These people don’t trust anyone. Did you use magic on him? No…you don’t have any…”

I waited as he chased the logic. It didn’t take him long.

“How did you get in? Even the Master Magicians couldn’t break through the barrier.”

Again, I let him put the pieces together. It was sort of fun. With the way he tilted his head and his inward gaze, I imagined faint clicks echoing in his mind until he figured it out with one loud snap.

Fisk grabbed my shoulders. “Magic doesn’t work on you.” His eyes danced with excitement. “Like Valek. And you feel magic, too. That’s why you looked like you were fighting a strong wind. Holy snow cats is right!”

“Fisk, I—”

“That’s why you came.”

“You need—”

“Wow. The Council’s going to be thrilled. Why haven’t you told them?”

I sighed. “It’s complicated. Besides, they’ll know soon enough since both Masters are now informed. Can you keep it quiet for a while? I don’t want it to become public knowledge.”

A shrewd look slid across his face. “I can for a price.”

“Scoundrel. How much?”

He touched his chest as if I had offended him. “Not money. I may need your…special skills in the future to aid my Helper’s Guild members, and it would be comforting to know I can engage your services.”

Smooth. I guessed he was sixteen years old, but his obvious intelligence and experience from growing up on the streets made him appear older. With his long eyelashes, he was going to be popular with the girls if he wasn’t already.

“Agreed,” I said.

When we exited the building, two of his members appeared. Fisk assigned them the task of watching for the missing residents. During the discussion, I studied their faces. The kids seemed eager, serious and confident, but I wondered if they played or had fun. I examined the teapot in my hands. Fine cracks ran through the pattern of roses. Chips lined the handle and the lid was missing. Did the children in the Helper’s Guild feel loved?

He finished and the two hurried off. I worried they would be on their own tonight. I huffed, but not with humor, more like self-disgust. First time I ever wondered about them. Or cared, to be brutally honest. Fisk had mentioned this world versus my world. And I agreed.

My world didn’t include rancid bedding and filth. My world didn’t have children without homes and caring parents. My world included warmth, food and love. But our worlds did have one thing in common—bad people.

Quartz and I headed toward the Magician’s Keep in the northeast corner of the Citadel. The white marble walls reflected the sunlight and bounced traffic noise, creating echoes. I avoided the crowded market in the center of the Citadel. Instead I bypassed it to the south and cut through the Sitian government complex, which filled the southeast quarter.

The sight of the Master Magicians’ towers rising above the other buildings sent a wave of memories crashing over me. I waded through them, avoiding the awful ones and focusing on the pleasant ones from my five years as a student.

At the entrance to the Keep, the guard stopped me.

“Master Bloodgood wants to see you in his office,” he said.

“Please tell him I’ll be there after I settle Quartz into the stables.”

Along with the guards, at least one magician worked at the gate at all times for safety and to relay messages to the magicians inside.

“No. Now,” the guard said. “Your horse can find her way there without you.”

Annoyed, I snapped. “And get chewed out by the Stable Master? No thank you. Have someone take her or I will.”

After a bit of discussion, a stable hand appeared to escort Quartz. Satisfied, I crossed to the Keep’s administration building. Imposing marble steps led up to the main entrance. The rectangular-shaped structure consisted of offices and conference rooms for the managerial staff as well as offices for the Master Magicians.

A feeling of being home touched me for a brief moment. As I navigated the well-known hallways, I encountered pools of magic. A few graduates from the Keep’s program worked in various positions in administration. The random touch of power sent chills along my skin. I remembered Janco’s nickname for the place. Creepy Keepy.

“Come in,” First Magician Bain Bloodgood called through his office door.

I entered and smiled. As usual, clutter filled the room. Heaps of books strained the shelves. Odd devices and half-completed experiments littered his worktable. Piles of paper threatened to spill onto his desk. The messy office matched his wild gray hair, and the long navy robe reminded me of all the times I had sat opposite him, discussing Sitian history with him. His face would all but glow with pride when I had remembered an arcane bit of knowledge he had taught me.

I approached his desk. He glanced up from the book spread open before him. A stranger met my gaze. His appraisal lacked kindness or curiosity. The wrinkles around his mouth deepened with his annoyed frown. Dark smudges stood out against the pale, paper-thin skin clinging to his face.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he demanded.

Taken aback, I scrambled for a reply. “I told Irys—”

“She told me your pathetic excuses. What I want to know is why you kept such a valuable skill secret from us when you had created such a crisis in Sitia?”

“Crisis?”

“The crisis due to your sacrifice. Giving up your magic has ground communications to a halt. It’s as if we have all gone suddenly deaf. Your glass messengers were vital to commerce and to my network of magicians. The Council doesn’t even want to hear your name.”

The ground dissolved under my feet. I groped for the chair, afraid I would fall. “But what about now? I saved a boy today and protected the power source.”

Bain’s anger deflated a bit. “You did an excellent job today. Once the boy is recovered, he will be enrolled in the Keep to learn how to control his magic. However, even saving the boy’s life won’t be enough to sway the Council’s opinion.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m afraid if I inform the Council about your immunity now, they’ll be afraid.”

Confused, I gripped the armchair. “Why?”

“The whole nasty business with Akako has them on edge. So much that I had to assign every Councilor a magician to protect them. A magician would not be able to stop you.”

“That’s extreme. I wouldn’t—”

“I know, but as I said, they’re not acting rational. Wait a while, Opal,” Bain said. “I will tell the Council when they’re ready. I’m hopeful everyone will relax soon. With Councilor Moon returning to the sessions this week, I’m sure it won’t be long. For now, Irys and I will keep you busy.”

Bain stood and walked around his desk. My head spun as if I was falling from a great height. Before I could reply, his arm settled on my shoulders and he guided me to the hallway.

“You look exhausted, child. You’re welcome to stay in the Keep’s guest quarters as long as you like. Get some sleep.” Bain closed the door.

I mulled over our conversation. Was I supposed to hang around the Keep waiting for Bain or Irys to give me something to do? Working for the Council didn’t appeal to me, but I would help the Master Magicians.

However, I wasn’t going to remain idle. Finn was a magician. And I suspected he had been Keep trained. I would use my time here to learn more about him.

It wasn’t until I stood in the formal garden in the middle of the Keep’s campus that I realized I had wandered without a destination in mind. The apprentice wings bookended me and the Fire Memorial glinted with reds and yellows in the afternoon sunlight. Having no desire to reminisce about the past, I averted my gaze from the statue.

Magic collected in parts of the campus like stationary clouds of dust. Without warning, I would walk into one, stumbling on the sudden thickness of the air. A feeling of unease crept through my bones as if these pools of magic waited to ambush me. Janco nailed it. Creepy Keepy.

Shaking off my disquiet, I pondered my present situation. I could return home and smooth the relationship with my mother. Or I could travel to the coast and stay with Kade. Or I could return to Fulgor to work in my factory and be close to my friends. And visit Devlen? I refused to answer that question. I also could stay here a few days and ask around. Perhaps Finn had come through the Citadel on his way to sell my blood. It was more appealing than waiting for an assignment from Bain.

Feeling better, I stopped by the guest room manager’s office to secure a room. My possessions had already been delivered. He handed me a key. Then I checked on Quartz. She grazed in the small pasture located along the back wall of the Keep, looking healthy and content. She trotted over and nuzzled me.

The Keep’s glass shop was to the east of the pasture. Mara was the shop’s manager. Light gray clouds puffed from the kiln’s chimney. The hot sweet smell of burning white coal filled the air, and a faint hum reached me. In the past, the scent alone would have drawn me in.

Instead, I passed the shop and found the Weapons Master drilling first-year students in self-defense. They worked in the training yard next to the armory, sweating in the warm sun.

A wide smile spread across Captain Marrok’s face. “Opal! Good to see you.” He shook my hand. “When did you get back?”

“This morning.”

“Have you been keeping up with your training?” he asked.

I laughed. The seasoned soldier didn’t waste time on pleasantries. His reputation as the best Weapons Master in years had been well earned. His gray hair bristled from his scalp, matching the short commands he shouted to the students. Long ropes of muscle covered his arms and his roughened hands sported a spider’s web of scars.

“I’m keeping fit,” I said. If he counted Valek’s special training, then I was in good shape.

“Yeah? Care to prove it to me?”

“Not today, I’ve only had a few hours’ sleep last night.”

“Tomorrow then. Right after breakfast.”

“Yes, sir!”

With a mock salute, he returned to work, encouraging students and demonstrating moves. I stayed by the fence until the session ended. Students gathered practice swords and milled about.

Deep down, I recognized my procrastination. Why was I avoiding the glass shop? I had designed it. I had ordered all the equipment. I had helped get the kiln running. A lot of memories resided in there. The answer to my question snapped in my mind. I worried those recollections would ambush me and I wasn’t strong enough to fight my way through them.

Utter nonsense. Determined, I walked toward the building, focusing on the good times, remembering when Piecov had spilled a wheelbarrow full of lime, coating everything with white powder.

“Um. Excuse me,” a boy called from behind me.

I turned. One of the first-year students hustled closer. He skidded to a stop about an arm’s length away. Uncertainty filled his gaze. I guessed his age to be around fourteen.

“Are you Opal Cowan?” he asked. His voice cracked midsentence.

“Yes. Can I help you?”

Sudden resolve hardened his features. His hand dipped into his pocket, and the distinctive snick of a switchblade sounded. “Yes. You can die!”