Its sheer outer walls were topped with coils of barbed wire.
Glints of sunlight ref lected 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 f lurry 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
Spy Glass
37
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
38
Maria V. Snyder
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 f lowed 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 cus-
tomer, 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
“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.”
Spy Glass
39
“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?”
&nbs
p; “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.
40
Maria V. Snyder
“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.”
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.”
Spy Glass
41
“Me?”
“Damn. He’s right. I’m sure she would help you.”
“Who?” Partners could be so annoying!
“Councilor
Moon.”
The Councilor’s Hall teemed with guards. Four
times as many as the last time I had been here. I couldn’t just sign in and find my own way. No. Instead, I had to surrender
my sais and switchblade, endure being frisked and interro-
gated about my reasons for coming to the Hall. Then I was
assigned an escort.
My companion was a friendlier version of the entrance
soldiers. He didn’t carry the full complement of weapons
around his waist. I guessed these half guards were an attempt
to downplay the overwhelming tension that vibrated in the
air. It didn’t work.
As I followed him across the black-and-white checkerboard
tiles of the Hall’s lobby, my skin crawled with the feeling of
many gazes watching my every move. Strident sounds echoed
in the large open space. The ceiling with its grand glass chan-
delier hung ten stories above my head. On the opposite side of
the lobby, an elaborate wooden staircase wound up the f loors,
giving access to the rest of the building where the Moon Clan’s administrative staff had offices and suites.
When we reached the bottom step, a bubble of magic
Spy Glass
43
engulfed us. My escort continued to climb the stairs, but I
glanced around, looking for the magician. The press of power
disappeared. Since no one caught my eye, I hurried to catch
up.
Councilor Tama Moon’s office suite was located on the
first f loor. The long hallway to her elaborate double doors
had been decorated with art from various clan members. I
noticed all of Gressa’s glass pieces were gone. Not surpris-
ing. She had helped Akako take possession of Tama’s body. I
wondered which prison Gressa had been sent to—Wirral or
Dawnwood.
When we entered Tama’s expansive reception area, my
escort said for the fifth time, “She won’t see you today, and
it’s doubtful she’ll even let you make an appointment.”
The woman sitting behind the desk frowned and appeared
to steel herself for an argument. Considering what had hap-
pened to her, I understood Tama’s precautions, but the whole
atmosphere reeked of paranoia.
“She knows me, and if I have to wait a few days to see her,
that’s fine,” I said.
However the heavy tread of boots behind me wasn’t fine.
I turned and two wide guards tackled me to the f loor. My
breath whooshed out with the impact. In a heartbeat, they
yanked off my cloak, pulled my arms back and manacled my
wrists.
Voices yelled and confusion reigned for a moment. Jerked
to my feet, I swayed as dizziness obscured my vision. A hot
metallic taste filled my mouth. I probed teeth and lips with
my tongue, seeking damage. A split lip so far.
The commotion drew Councilor Moon from her office.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Good
question.
“Zebb said she has a null shield,” the guy clutching my left
arm said.
44
Maria V. Snyder
Why would they think—? Oh. The bubble of magic couldn’t
sense anything from me, therefore I must be shielded.
Tama stepped closer. The men increased the pressure as if
I would try to attack her. I almost laughed at the ridiculous-
ness of the situation until I saw the strain in her face. Hollow cheeked and with dark smudges under her eyes, she gaped at
me in fear.
“Opal?” she asked.
Not trusting my voice, I nodded.
“Why are you here?” She hugged her arms to her chest as
if to keep herself from falling apart.
“To visit you.”
She blinked. “Why are you shielded, I thought…”
Stunned, I watched this brittle shell of a woman as she
struggled to make sense of the situation. Her blond hair hung
limp and greasy; she had aged years in the span of one season
and stains covered her white silk tunic.
Her gaze snapped to me with a sudden intensity. “You lost
your magic. Are you afraid someone is going to attack you,
too?”
“No. I’m not shielded.” But I began to understand. Magic
once again surrounded me, seeking. I guessed the magician
wanted an update.
My escort spoke for the first time, and I wondered if he
could feel the power, as well. “Maybe I should fetch Zebb?”
“No. Absolutely not. He is not allowed up here,” Tama
said. “Why did that magician think you’ve erected a null
shield?”
She spat the word magician. Coming here had been a bad idea; I wondered if Nic and Eve were aware of the change in
the Councilor.
“He must be mistaken,” I said. “You know I have no magi-
cal powers. Why would I come here to harm you? I helped
rescue you.”
The viselike grip on my arms relaxed from crushing to
Spy Glass
45
bruising. Tama melted. She covered her face with her hands,
either embarrassed by her overreaction or relieved.
&nb
sp; “What’s this all about?” another female voice demanded.
I glanced over my shoulder and recognized Faith Moon,
the Councilor’s First Adviser. Light ref lected off her glasses as she scanned our little group, assessing the situation. The
Adviser’s short brown hair was tucked behind her ears. Her
mouth dropped open when she spotted me wedged between
the two guards.
“Release Opal immediately,” she ordered. “Dari, bring
some tea for our guest.” The woman behind the desk shot to
her feet and bolted from the room.
The guards didn’t move. “Councilor?” Left Arm asked.
Tama dropped her hands as if overcome by pure exhaustion.
“Yes, of course. Let her go.”
Right Arm unlocked the manacles. I rubbed my wrists. My
skin crawled as if I had walked through a sticky spiderweb.
Threads of invisible magic clung, but I couldn’t wipe them
away. Or could I?
“Opal, please forgive me. I…I don’t…know…” The Coun-
cilor spread her hands out in a vague gesture.
Faith wrapped a supportive arm around Tama’s shoulders.
“Let’s go back to your office. Opal, please come with us.” She
scowled at the three men. “Gentlemen, you can return to your
duties.” She guided Tama into a comfortable armchair near
the door.
I stood to the side, feeling awkward. The magician stopped
trying to reach me. The bands of magic fell away and I sucked
in a relieved breath. When Dari returned with a tray of tea,
Faith grabbed it from her and shooed the woman out. Two
guards bookended the entrance, but remained in the outer
office. Faith closed the office door with her hip and set the
tray on a table.
Serving the Councilor first, Faith then handed me a steam-
ing cup. “I’m glad you’re here. Please sit down.”
46
Maria V. Snyder
I sank into a chair opposite Tama and sipped my tea. I didn’t
know what I should say or do. “If this is a bad time…” I tried, but they ignored me.
Faith knelt next to Tama and clasped her hand. “Talk to
Opal. She might be able to help you. She’s been harmed by
magic and by Warpers. She’s been betrayed.” Faith gestured
to me. “Yet, here she is. And without any magic to defend
herself.”
Tama shrank into the cushions, shaking her head. “She
wouldn’t understand.”
“Not completely, but you need to tell her what you won’t tell me.” Faith squeezed her hand, shot me an encouraging
look and left the room.