you’re really here in Fulgor?”
“My answer hasn’t changed since this morning.”
“What about your Stormdancer? Does he know why?”
“Of course. Kade is in Ixia. The Commander has agreed to
allow him to harvest the blizzards.” I spotted the next ques-
tion in his eyes and explained why I wasn’t with Kade. “Cold
season. Northern Ice Sheet. Icy wind.”
He nodded. “You hate the cold. You use to shiver at night
and I’d—”
“Don’t go there. Working on trust, remember?” Memo-
ries of my time with him when I had thought he was Ulrick
threatened to bubble to the surface. I squashed them deep
down where they belonged.
“Sorry.”
We kept on safe subjects for a few minutes, catching up on
news. He leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed despite his
situation. And happy. Robbed of his freedom for the next four
and a half years, his magic gone and yet he seemed at peace.
Was it his Sandseed heritage?
“How do you do it?” I blurted, interrupting his description
of lights-out.
“Do
what?”
I searched for the proper words. “Be so…calm…so…” I
waved my hands as if trying to pull what I wanted to say from
the air and shove it into my brain. “Be so…content without
your magic?”
He considered my question. “I’ve lived a year now without
magic. A…difficult year. At first, I was furious, and I vented
my anger on you. That’s one difference between us. You sac-
rificed your magic. No one stole it. So you believe you have
no one to be mad at but yourself.”
“But—”
“Listen. How could you be angry at yourself when you did
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the right thing? You can’t. Instead, you swallowed that resent-
ment, and are pretending to be fine. However, that emotion
is smoldering inside you, burning a hole in your soul.”
“You’re an expert now? Do you do group therapy for your
fellow prisoners?” Sarcasm laced my voice. How could he
know how I felt?
“I trained as a Sandseed Story Weaver. Magic was but one
of the many tools we learned to help others.”
“That was long ago, before you turned into an evil Davi-
ian Warper who tortured me.” A small part of my mind was
shocked by my cruel words, another part cheered me on.
But he remained calm. “There’s your anger. Good. Now
direct it at the proper place. I said you believe you have no
one to blame but yourself because of the person you are.”
“According to you, I’m a nice accommodating doormat.”
I spat his words back at him. No reaction.
“You’re tenacious, intelligent and kind, but you’re hard on
yourself. You believe there was something you could have
done better or smarter at Hubal. If you had only been quicker,
you wouldn’t have had to make your sacrifice.”
I sucked in a breath, feeling as if I had been slapped.
“You need to realize you did your best in an extremely
difficult situation. Most people wouldn’t have survived at all.
Your anger is valid and needs to be directed at the men who
forced you to make a sacrifice.”
“Time’s up,” my CO said.
Devlen said in a rush, “Allow yourself to be furious at
Ulrick and Tricky. Purge it from your soul and come back to
see me.”
“Why?” I stood before the CO could grab my arm.
“Because I will help you take the next step and fill the
emptiness inside you.”
“How?”
“Like I have. You motivated me to be a better person and in
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the process the emptiness filled. We need to find something
or someone who will encourage you to move past it.”
The correctional officer hustled me from the room. With
my thoughts on my visit, I had no memory of the trip through
the darkening streets of Fulgor. Devlen’s words swirled in my
mind. He had always been an expert at twisting logic and play-
ing with my emotions. If I repeated our conversation enough
times, the f law in his argument would appear.
He had been right about one thing. One thing only. I hadn’t
been clever enough in Hubal.
By the time I reached home, I failed to find the gap in
his logic, and I realized I had forgotten to ask him about my
blood. Idiot.
After unlocking the four complicated locks Nic had insisted
on installing, I entered the front room. Lighting a lantern
against the increasing gloom, I spotted my first surprise. A
letter had been slipped under my door. I carried it upstairs to read and encountered my second surprise.
Valek sat at my kitchen table, eating a bowl of stew.
The aroma of ginger and garlic hung in the air. Valek was
eating Ian’s beef stew, which meant he had been following me
and had already visited the Pig Pen.
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
“Hello to you, too,” he said. He pointed to a second bowl.
“Sit. Eat. You must be starving.”
I joined him at the table. He had lit all the lanterns and the
room glowed with a cozy yellow light. Heat radiated from
the meat, yet the coals in my hearth remained banked. He
must have arrived only a short time before me. We finished
the meal in silence.
When he leaned back, I asked him again, “How long have
you been in Fulgor?”
“Long enough to confirm what you’re trying to do.”
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I acted nonchalant. “Good, then I don’t have to explain
anything.”
An eyebrow quirked. He had darkened his pale skin and
was unshaven. His plain and stained clothing resembled those
worn by the construction workers.
“Nice try. What I don’t know is why you called for
help.”
“Then why did Yelena tell me you were already on the
way?”
“Good timing. I heard you traveled to Fulgor after our chat
and guessed the reason you came here. I figured you would
encounter trouble.”
Annoyed, I asked, “Are you sure you guessed right?”
“Unless collecting blueprints of Wirral is a new hobby of
yours?”
I slouched in my chair. “You’re right. I encountered trouble.
Again.”
“It’s the nature of this business,” he said.
When I failed to perk up from his “pep” talk, he asked,
“Remember when I told you I make mistakes?”
“Yes.”
“This—” he swept his hand out, indicating the room “—is
all due to my mistake in underestimating you.”
“Go
on.”
“I thought I was being subtle when I asked you about your
blood. I must be losing my touch.” He gave me a wry smile.
“If it makes you feel any better, it took me several hours to
put it together.”
“I’ll hold off on my retirement then.” He waited.
I sighed. “Whe
n exactly did you arrive in town?”
“First day of the warming season.”
I made a quick mental calculation. “A few days before then,
I had a humbling encounter.” I detailed my experiences with
Finn and his pack. “I have to assume he knows the reason for
our immunity, about blood magic…everything. I’d like to
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know what game he’s playing, but I can’t touch him. You, on
the other hand, won’t have any problems getting to him.” I
grinned in anticipation. Finn was in for a nasty surprise.
Valek had remained silent as I talked, staring into the
distance. He played with his spoon, spinning it around and
around on the tabletop. “I agree. Finn must be dealt with, but
not by me.” He met my gaze.
“You don’t need to worry. He’s not in your league,” I
said.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ve no doubt he’s a
classic overgrown bully. But he’s not mine to deal with.” His
f lat tone revealed no emotion. “He’s yours.”
“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.
“Half hearted spies tend to die, Opal. In fact, you’re lucky
Finn decided you weren’t a danger to him or the prison. Oth-
erwise, you’d be dead by now.”
“I’m making progress. Being Councilor Moon’s aide gives
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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 assis-
tant. 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
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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 com-
mitment 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, con-
sidering 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 ap-
peared 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
dance lands, spending the rest of the warming season with
me. In my carefully worded reply, I asked him not to come.
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121
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 f loor for security and privacy,
and Valek converted a window on the ground f loor 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 mer-
rier,” he had said.
He brought in various gadgets and weapons and equipment
for training, filling the ground f loor with them. He even or-
dered 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 t
o 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 correc-
tional officer led me to a visiting room. I jerked to a stop. No
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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 ap-
peared 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 f lashed 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 in-
cessant 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?
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A ridge of f lesh 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?