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    Spy Glass

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    idea sparked. I had the answer to how Valek and I would get

      into the maximum security prison.

      I reported to work and assisted Councilor Moon with in-

      terviews. We had been searching for another person to take

      over my duties. Now that I had a way to get inside Wirral,

      hiring a new person and training him or her became critical.

      Tama wasn’t happy, but she understood. She had made such

      progress in trusting others, but, at times, I found her clutching the glass paperweight I had made for her.

      Tama claimed my gift steadied her and gave her strength.

      “It reminds me of you,” she said after the last interviewee had left. “I remember what you have done despite—” she swept

      an arm out “—everything. If you can face your fears, then I

      can, too.”

      Glad she found comfort from my paperweight, I swallowed

      my doubt that I faced my fears. Seeking my blood felt more

      like avoiding the fear of being without magic forever.

      Later in the afternoon, I ran errands for Faith. Just like every

      142

      Maria V. Snyder

      day, I delivered various papers and forms to the other offices

      in the Hall. Except today I failed to hand over one form.

      Instead, I slipped it into my satchel. One day’s delay wouldn’t be noticed. I hoped.

      After I finished my tasks for the Councilor, I raced home.

      When I entered the ground f loor, I paused. The lantern we

      kept lit in the glass factory was dark. It was either out of oil or someone had extinguished the f lame.

      I put my bag and cloak down. Sliding my sais from the

      holder around my waist, I left them with my cloak and palmed

      my switchblade. I stepped to the side, keeping my back against

      the wall. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the semidarkness.

      Slivers of sunlight cut through the cracks in the boards cover-

      ing the windows.

      As I strained to hear any sounds over the hum of the kiln,

      two possible scenarios came to mind if the lantern had been

      snuffed. One ambusher or more than one. The second pos-

      sibility jacked up my heart rate.

      Remaining with my back to the wall, I moved to the left,

      stopping after each step to listen. When I reached the corner

      of the room one of the slivers of light f lickered as a shadow

      passed. Inside or outside? Valek’s voice lectured in my mind—

      assume the worst. Inside then.

      I had no desire to leave the corner, but I could be here all

      night if I didn’t check the lantern. The out-of-oil scenario

      hadn’t been dismissed yet. I ghosted along the long wall of

      the factory. The lantern sat in a stone alcove at the midway

      point. I reached it.

      Before I could check the oil level, the shadow returned,

      and I dived toward it before it could move. I slammed into a

      person. Knocking the ambusher down, I pinned the man to

      the ground. With a move I had practiced a thousand times, I

      triggered my switchblade and pressed the tip to f lesh.

      He stopped struggling in an instant.

      “Talk or die,” I ordered.

      Spy Glass

      143

      He

      laughed.

      I groaned and pushed to my feet. “Did I pass your test,

      Valek?”

      “With f lying colors. I especially liked your ultimatum,” he

      said.

      “Is this a new twist to our training? Am I going to have to

      be on guard all the time?”

      “You should be on guard all the time, regardless.” He lit

      the lantern. The yellow glow illuminated his amusement.

      “Practice and repetition sharpen your ref lexes to a point where you move without thinking. However, the element of fear is

      hard to replicate during training. Which is why I make you

      pick locks on real houses with the occupants sleeping inside

      and why I will test you from time to time.”

      “Wonderful,” I muttered.

      I collected my satchel and cloak and followed him upstairs.

      When he pulled a chair up to the table full of blueprints, I

      remembered my epiphany.

      Feeling smug, I withdrew the form and slapped it down in

      front of him. “Here’s our way into Wirral.”

      He scanned the page. “Well done.”

      “Was it a test, too? Pretending it was impossible?”

      “No. It had been impossible for you to get inside the prison.”

      He paused.

      I took the bait. “Me? But not you?”

      “Correct. I can get inside without donning a disguise or

      doing any of those other tricks. You would need a few more

      years of experience and training to do the same.”

      “Years?” My future life f lashed before me—creeping around

      in the dark, being away from my family and friends—not

      appealing.

      “Yes. And you’ve been assessing the mission under a false

      assumption. One I hesitated to correct you about.”

      I braced for his revelation. “Go on.”

      “I’m not going with you. This is your mission, not mine.”

      144

      Maria V. Snyder

      Two seasons ago, I would have been terrified by his state-

      ment. Instead, only a nauseous anxiety swirled. I pointed to

      the form on the table. “What if I get caught?”

      “Mission over. You’ll have to deal with the conse-

      quences.”

      Meaning no rescue. More than enough incentive to avoid

      capture. I tapped the paper. “I don’t have the resources to forge that document or the men to—”

      “My people will assist you. Just because you’re going in

      alone, doesn’t mean I’m not still helping.” He smiled.

      My muscles relaxed and I sagged into a chair.

      Valek drummed his fingers on the table as he considered.

      “Will you be able to handle the role? You’ve had some awful

      experiences.”

      “I can do it.” I assured him and myself. I had to do it. No

      other options remained.

      “Good. You have completed the first level of spy training.”

      He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to me.

      “Go on, open it.”

      Unwrapping the package with care, I half expected the

      contents to be another one of his tests. Nestled inside the

      box was a black cylinder. It was only a few inches long and as

      round as a coin. A glass ball filled one end and the other was

      hollow and had a slight lip.

      Seeing my confusion, Valek plucked the object from my

      hand and pulled on the lip. The cylinder extended into a foot-

      long tube.

      “It’s a spyglass.” He held the hollow end up to his right eye

      and closed the other eye. “It brings distant objects closer.” Valek gave it back to me. “Consider it a graduation present.”

      I pointed the glass at a lantern and squinted through the

      tube. “Incredible. Thanks.” I lowered the gift. “Do you give

      these to all your students?”

      “No. Each person is unique. I enjoy finding something that

      matches each one’s personality.”

      Spy Glass

      145

      “And how does a spyglass fit me?”

      “You’re living in the present. It’s a reminder that you can see the future if you just point the glass in the right direction.”

      During the next five days,
    I checked off my to-do list.

      Councilor Moon hired a new assistant and I trained her. I

      submitted the forged paperwork. And after one of our morn-

      ing training sessions, I told Nic and Eve I would be traveling

      to Hubal for a few weeks. No surprise Nic grumped at me,

      and when it was time for them to report to work, I touched

      Eve’s sleeve and asked her to stay behind as the other guards

      went inside.

      “Something wrong?” she asked.

      “No, but I wanted to ask a favor.”

      Eve grinned conspiratorially. “One you don’t want Nic to

      know about?”

      “Exactly.” I summoned my courage and handed her a sealed

      letter. “If I don’t return from Hubal by midseason, can you

      deliver this to First Adviser Moon?”

      She peered at the envelope. I had worded the letter with

      care just in case Eve or Nic decided to read it before giving

      it to Faith. If I was caught, then all of Fulgor would hear the news. However, if Finn discovered me first, I could become a

      permanent occupant of the prison without anyone the wiser.

      I hoped it would be my insurance.

      “I wish you would trust us,” she finally said.

      I gestured to the letter. “I am. And I trust you to do your

      jobs. I never wanted to compromise your positions on Fulgor’s

      security force. That’s not being a friend.”

      “But we want to help you. We don’t mind breaking the

      rules for a good reason.”

      “Eve, if it was critical to Sitia or was to protect the Coun-

      cilor then I would have included you right from the start. This is a selfish mission, benefiting only myself. No reason to risk your jobs.”

      146

      Maria V. Snyder

      She frowned and opened her mouth as if to argue, but

      snapped it closed and nodded. “You better be back by mid-

      season,” she ordered.

      I gave her a mock salute. “Yes, sir!”

      Eve hurried to HQ. The empty yard matched the feeling in

      my chest. Last time I had gone on a mission by myself, I had

      gone about it the wrong way. This time I would do it right.

      My plan was based on strategy and planning with the best spy

      in Ixia and Sitia. I had confidence in my abilities. I hadn’t lied to Eve. I needed her and Nic to do their jobs.

      So why couldn’t I be content? Why the worry? Why

      couldn’t I be like Valek and focus on the logic? No emotion

      needed. Perhaps it was my lack of experience or the personal

      nature of the mission.

      I pushed those thoughts aside and waited for the construc-

      tion crew. It didn’t take Devlen long to find me.

      “You’re leaving,” he stated.

      No surprise he could read my mood. As I had told Nic,

      he knew me inside and out. He reached. I stepped. Devlen

      wrapped me in his arms. Resting my head on his chest, I

      listened to his strong heartbeat.

      “If you don’t return, I’ll come for you,” he said.

      “Wait until the heating season. I have another plan in place,

      but it could fall through.”

      “That’s

      alarming.”

      I leaned back. “Alarming?”

      “It’s the first time you agreed with me. You must be

      worried.”

      “I’m being smart.”

      “Good. When you find your blood, you’ll need me.”

      And if I didn’t, I’d need him. No one else would under-

      stand.

      He followed my thoughts. “I’ll be here. Regardless.” Then

      he kissed me. Devlen drew away, trailing his fingers along my

      arms.

      Spy Glass

      147

      Goose bumps raced along my skin, sending a shiver up my

      spine.

      “Do you remember the pressure points?” he asked.

      The pleasant tingle f led, replaced by a sudden wariness.

      “Why?”

      A slight cringe creased his brow at my tone, but he gestured

      to his torso. “If you run into trouble, there is a point that you can reach when your hands are manacled behind your back.”

      Grabbing my hand, he placed my fingers on a spot near his

      waist. “If you jab here with two stiff fingers, the person’s

      stomach muscles will cramp bad enough to cause them to bend

      over in pain. It lasts a few seconds. Long enough to follow up

      with another strike or to run away.”

      I moved my fingers, trying to memorize the location.

      “It’s about two inches to the left of the belly button,” Devlen said. “Practice if you have time.”

      “Thanks.”

      He squeezed my hand. “I’m already missing you.” With a

      slight wave, he returned to the construction site.

      Again no one appeared to notice except Pellow. Since Nic

      hadn’t lectured me about my illegal visits with Devlen, I as-

      sumed Pellow hadn’t been gossiping. I wondered why as I

      hurried home.

      Quartz and I left for Hubal the next morning. Bright sun-

      light lit the countryside. The cool temperature was just right

      for Quartz. She stretched her muscles and jumped anything

      she could find, including a sleeping cow. The half day’s ride

      ended too soon as we approached the small town by early

      afternoon.

      Slowing Quartz to a walk, we navigated the streets of

      downtown. I waited for my unpleasant memories to attack.

      The scars on my arms itched, but once I reached the Dolo-

      mite Inn, my mind filled with recollections of the generous

      innkeeper instead. He had endured the invasion of my family

      148

      Maria V. Snyder

      and friends for half a season, and had allowed my mother to

      take over his kitchen.

      He greeted me with a wide smile and open arms. After

      Quartz was settled in the inn’s stables, I joined him in the

      common room. He looked the same. His bushy white eye-

      brows were the only hair above his big ears.

      “There was such a to-do after you left,” he said. He f lagged

      down one the servers. “Bring Miss Opal a bowl of our marble

      soup,” he ordered.

      “Yes, Mister Paul,” she said.

      “Marble soup?” I asked.

      He chuckled. “The masons like it when I name dishes after

      the stones they carve. It brings in more customers and doesn’t

      cost me a thing!”

      The waitress delivered a bowl filled with a steaming white

      liquid. The unmistakable scent of oysters reached me. I stirred the soup with a spoon and discovered long green strings. The

      soup resembled the white marble streaked with green veins

      that was mined in Hubal. Every government building in Sitia

      had been built with that particular marble.

      I tasted a spoonful. The fishy f lavor dominated. “What’s

      the green stuff ?”

      Mister Paul wheezed with humor. “Seaweed. But don’t tell

      anyone.”

      “You’re far from the sea. This must be expensive soup.”

      “Not too bad. There’s an outfit down along the Bloodgood

      coast that found an abundance of oysters and they hooked up

      with some magician so they can ship the seafood without it

      going bad.”

      When I had traveled along the coastline, there had been a

      number of depressed towns fading into ruins. I hoped one of


      them had hit the oyster jackpot.

      “How do they ship it?” I asked between slurps of my

      soup.

      “Cold

      glass.”

      Spy Glass

      149

      I almost dropped the spoon. “Really?” My voice squeaked.

      “Yeah. It’s strange stuff. The food is packed into these glass

      jars. They’re cold to the touch, but as soon as you open the

      jar, the cold disappears.” He shrugged. “Took my wife a bit

      to get used to it, but it works.”

      “Can I see one?”

      “Sure.” He sent another server to the kitchen.

      The soup felt as though it turned to stone in my stomach

      as I waited. The woman carried a jar coated with frost and

      handed it to me. Magic clung to it, but I couldn’t figure out

      what it was doing to keep the contents frozen. A rose design

      had been stamped into the lid.

      “Do you know who is providing these?” I asked.

      “The merchant is a Bloodgood. Said his name was Fallon.

      Why?”

      “Just curious.” The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t

      place it. I examined the jar. The cold numbed my hands, but

      I didn’t see anything unusual. The server returned it to the

      kitchen. I would have to investigate after my business with

      Ulrick was completed.

      “How long are you staying?” Mister Paul asked.

      “One

      night.”

      His ears seemed to droop in disappointment. I suppressed

      a smile.

      “You mentioned a big to-do after I left. What happened?”

      I asked.

      “Nothing bad. Just lots of visitors and officials and questions.

      Lots of customers!” He beamed. “They took that Donner place

      apart. A Master Magician and the Soulfinder stayed in my

      inn.” Pride puffed his chest.

      With Irys and Yelena on hand during the search, I was

      certain they hadn’t found a vial full of blood in the Donner

      factory. Otherwise Valek wouldn’t have been asking me ques-

      tions about it.

      150

      Maria V. Snyder

      “What happened to the factory after everyone left?” I

      asked.

      “Closed up. It’s for sale, but no one is interested.”

      The next day, I headed north, aiming for the boarding

      stables Valek had mentioned. Odd for the stables to be so far

      from any towns. When I arrived at the tiny barn with one

      stable lad and one black horse, I guessed this place wasn’t on

      any of the official Sitian maps.

      When Valek came out of the modest farmhouse to greet

     


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