Spy Glass

3

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 puppy-dog 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.”