It was the middle of the warming season. The Keep’s current session would finish at the end of the heating season—approximately one hundred and fifty days away. The time loomed over me like a prison sentence. Would I be allowed to graduate?
One way to find out. I dressed in my usual glassmaking clothes—a pair of brown pants and a plain khaki short-sleeved tunic. I wrapped a leather belt around my waist so the end of my shirt wouldn’t interfere with my work. Pulling on my worn leather boots, I smiled, remembering how they had filled with water when I tried to climb out on the sea rocks to talk to Kade.
After pulling my hair into a ponytail, I swung my cloak around my shoulders and paused. I wondered if the Council had inspected the garment before sending it back to me. Fingering the hem, I felt a line of odd-shaped bumps. Janco’s habit of sewing lock picks into all his clothes had given me an idea. I had hidden a handful of my diamonds and my glass spiders in my cloak.
I debated removing them and hiding them in my rooms, but decided to keep them in place for now. Working up the nerve, I headed toward Zitora’s office, ignoring the man shadowing me. Even though Zitora had avoided me throughout the Council’s interrogation, she remained my mentor.
A few students hustled along the Keep’s walkways. The cold morning air blew through the campus as if the temperature held no regard for the time of year. I entered the Keep’s administration building and dodged the surprised and suspicious glances cast my way.
Zitora’s office was located on the second floor. I raised my hand to knock on her door, but it swung open. First Magician Bain Bloodgood hustled out.
“Come, child, we have much to discuss.” He linked his arm in mine and led me down the hallway at a fast pace.
I glanced back. Zitora’s office door clicked shut. The sound mimicked the tight feeling in my chest. When I almost stumbled on his navy robe, my attention returned to the First Magician.
“Master Bloodgood, why—”
“Not out here.” He pushed open his door and ushered me into his office. All the Master Magicians had an office in the administration building.
The room smelled of parchment and ink. Bookshelves covered all the walls. He cleaned off a chair, adding more height to the mountains of files and texts on the floor.
“Sit down.” Bain settled behind his desk. Small metal contraptions littered the surface and dark ink stained the wood. He peered at a slip of paper. “You have completed four years of course work, but your studies have been interrupted this year.”
“I was helping—”
“In order for you to graduate, you need to finish the apprentice’s curriculum.”
“But Master Cowan said—”
“Opal.” His voice warned me to keep quiet. “I’m well aware of your special arrangements with Zitora. However, she is no longer directing your education. I am.” He handed me the paper. “You will start tomorrow morning.”
I scanned the schedule of classes. Two in the morning, two in the afternoon and a session in the evenings with Master Bloodgood followed by one hour in the glass shop.
“Any questions?”
About a thousand, but I swallowed most of them. “Why isn’t Master Cowan my mentor anymore?”
“She does not have enough experience to handle your...unique situation. Anything else?”
I tapped the paper on my leg. “I already attended Magical Ethics and Famous and Infamous Magicians Throughout History.”
“Consider it a refresher.”
His words stung like a hard slap on the wrist. I studied his expression, searching for the real reason. His gray eyes showed nothing but polite interest. A stark contrast to his wild hair. Of all the Master Magicians, Bloodgood, with his long, flowing robes and lack of concern over his personal grooming, matched my imagination for someone with a Master title.
“I will see you tomorrow evening.” Bain dismissed me.
Remembering my promise to Yelena, I nodded and left. Without conscious thought I arrived at the glass shop, only to be stopped by a Keep’s guard stationed next to the door.
“Sorry, miss, you’re not allowed inside without a...companion,” the man said. He fingered the hilt of his weapon and glanced about as if nervous.
Scared of me? I suppressed a laugh, knowing if I let it go, the humor would transform into sobs. “I’m not going to work with the glass. I just want to talk to my sister.”
“Sorry. No.” The young man puffed up his chest as if expecting a fight.
“Can you tell her I’m here?”
He deflated. “Er...I guess. Don’t move.” Opening the door, he leaned in and called for Mara, then resumed his position.
Mara hustled out. “For sand’s sake, why don’t you just come in? I have a vase on the rod.”
“The General here won’t let me.” I pointed to the guard.
She balled her skirt in her fists, heating up to blast the poor man.
“It’s not his fault,” I said before she could let loose. “He’s following orders. Can you stop by my rooms when you’re done for the day?”
Aiming a tight nod at me, she returned to the glass shop. An afternoon without plans loomed. Freedom...sort of. After taking a few moments to decide, I walked toward the stable.
Quartz’s delighted whinny banished the dark cloud around me. I tossed my cloak over a stall door and immersed myself in the simple pleasure of grooming her. When her coat gleamed, I hopped onto her back and practiced riding her without saddle, reins and bridle.
The midday sun warmed the air. We trotted in the training ring, doing figure eights. Remembering our close escape in Ognap, I steered her with my knees toward a series of low wooden barriers. Her muscles bunched under me as she skipped over the hurdles, landing with nary a bump. The next set of obstacles was two feet higher than the first.
Quartz flew over them with ease. I matched the rhythm of her gait, moving my body with hers. The power from her muscles soaked into me and I felt as if we no longer existed as two separate beings.
We turned to the last series of jumps. About six feet high, the four barriers seemed a mere nuisance to our heightened senses. We increased our pace and launched, landed, took four more strides, then another jump. Losing track of the time, we circled the ring until fatigue broke us apart and we returned to horse and rider. I dismounted and we walked a few more laps so she could cool down.
She matched my pace, her soft steps in the dirt the only sound. The Stable Master leaned on a fence post, watching us in silence.
Back at the stable, I rubbed her down as the Stable Master ran his hand along her legs, checking for hot spots.
“You found the zone,” he said. “That state where you and Quartz united and became one. Makes up for all those hours of shoveling horse manure. Doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Does it only happen when riding bareback?”
“Bareback helps. Physical contact is important. You can find the zone when using a saddle, but it’s much harder.” He fed Quartz a milk oat. “She’s a good jumper with strong legs. You were flying over those expert hurdles after only a short warm-up.” He scratched behind her ears and she closed her eyes with a grunt of bliss. “I was going to yell at you to stop, but it was fun seeing you take on those jumps.”
When the Stable Master left, I returned Quartz to her stall. Empty of students, the stable’s earthy scent and peaceful atmosphere beckoned, increasing my desire to find a hay bale and sit. But my past adventures had exposed all my weaknesses, so I searched for the Weapons Master.
I found Captain Marrok in the armory, sharpening swords. Waiting for him to finish, I examined the various weapons hanging on the walls and stacked on tables—an impressive collection. I fingered the hilt of a switchblade. My sais worked well for defense, but they couldn’t be hidden. I needed a smaller offensive weapon.
“
Hello, Opal! Welcome back,” Marrok said. He sheathed the blade and set it into a bin. He had cropped his gray hair to a bristle. Tall and tanned like leather, he reminded me of a wooden practice sword—nicked, well-worn, yet still strong.
Marrok pulled off his gloves. “The rumors about you have been rather spectacular.”
“And they’re all true.” I didn’t want him to repeat them, preferring to remain ignorant.
He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m an old soldier. I don’t believe anything unless I’m ordered to believe it.”
“Good to know.”
“What can I help you with?”
“I want to get back on a training schedule.”
“With your sais?”
“With my sais, self-defense, knife fighting...” I swept my hand out. “Everything.”
He whistled. “You might make a few people nervous.”
“They’re already nervous. Have you been ordered not to?”
“Nope. But you’re going to have to dedicate a lot of time each day.”
“How much?”
“You’ll have to build up to at least four hours a day. Six would be better.”
“Six, then.”
He considered. “Don’t you have classes?”
“In the afternoon. I’m free all morning.” I would skip the two refresher classes Master Bloodgood assigned and deal with the consequences when they arrived.
“When do you want to start?”
“Now if possible.”
* * *
I soaked in the hot water, letting my bruised muscles relax. Captain Marrok had started my session by sparring with me. No weapons, just hand-to-hand combat to gauge how much I knew. Not a lot, but not beyond hope, either.
Taking my time, I washed the horse hair, sweat and grime from my body, luxuriating in the Keep’s bathhouse. When I finally returned to my rooms, Mara had already arrived.
We chatted about the glass shop for a while, but Mara sat on the edge of the couch, causing me to wonder why she couldn’t relax.
“I received a message from Mother,” Mara said.
A bite of annoyance nipped me. Since Mara moved to the Keep, I never received letters from our parents anymore, though a message meant my mother had used one of my glass animals through the magicians stationed in Sitia’s major cities. With my encounter with the Council, my parents had gotten special permission to send messages via the relay station in Booruby. “And?”
“Well...” Mara fiddled with the hem on her shirt. “They’re worried about you and want you to know you can come home anytime.”
I could just imagine the look on my mother’s face when she spotted my entourage trailing behind me. However, from my sister’s discomfort, I knew there was more. I waited.
“They’re planning to come for your graduation.” Mara plucked at her sleeve. “Ahir is coming too.”
“It will be great to see them,” I said.
“Perhaps you can talk to Mother about...you know.” She made a vague half wave with her hand.
“No. I don’t know. Come on, Mara, what are you dancing around? You can tell me, we’re sisters.”
“Really?” She finally met my gaze. Ire pulled her lips taut. “So why do I have to hear about your...adventures from Leif? Why do you always change the subject when I ask what happened to you in Ixia?”
“It’s difficult to talk about...Ulrick. Answer all the same questions.” Weak. “Leif knows...” Weaker. I rubbed my shoulder. Even though the wound no longer remained, my muscles ached.
The real reason I avoided the subject with Mara became clear. I hadn’t wanted her to believe I was a simpleton for falling for Devlen’s lies.
“Mara.” I held her hand. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been and am an idiot. The whole thing with Ulrick...I was such a fool.”
She squeezed my fingers. “You were used. That bastard, tricking you and making you believe his lies. It’s not your fault he played his role so well. If I ever see Ulrick again, I’m going to chop off a certain body part of his with Leif’s machete!”
“Ulrick—”
“Should have told you he was on an undercover mission.” Mara tsked.
I paused in shock. Yelena had made Leif and me promise not to tell the truth about Devlen and Ulrick to anybody, but I had thought he would be honest with my sister. I hoped to eventually confide in her, but I couldn’t break my promise.
“At least you helped rescue the Stormdancer. I heard he was rather grateful. Did you two melt any snow?” She leaned back. All was forgiven.
I detailed my relationship with Kade for Mara, but in the back of my mind I wondered what Yelena planned to tell him about the other situation. Would she confide our strategy to pretend I was fooled? Would he then doubt his feelings for me? Or would he instinctively see through the ruse? Either way, my desire to see him flared and simmered in my chest.
* * *
The next morning I arrived for my training session, pushing as far as possible without exhausting myself. My afternoon classes of Money Management and Societal Trends were more interesting than I expected. Concentrating on the topics helped me to ignore the rather pointed stares and gawks from my fellow students.
As graduating magicians, my class would be assigned positions throughout Sitia. We would be living on our own and earning an income for the first time.
I gained new insight during the lecture on message priority in the Societal Trends session with Professor Greenblade. The ability to send a message over long distances almost instantly created a new department in the Sitian government. A few of my classmates would be appointed to work the relay stations. The government was in the process of drafting a series of protocols for those wanting to send a message to another town.
The Master Magicians and high-ranking officials, like Leif and Yelena, all had their own glass animals for communication. The Council members held priority status. Their messages were sent without question or delay. Business owners and the public wanted to use them, too. Their demands increased as knowledge of the relay stations spread throughout Sitia.
“More and more people will want access.” Dax Greenblade’s sea-green eyes scanned the students. “How will they put this new magic to use?”
“Family emergencies,” Mary said. “Messages can be sent to family members to return home.”
“Suppliers!” Steven said.
“Explain,” Dax urged.
Steven pulled on the brown hairs growing from the bottom of his chin. “A person could order supplies through the relay stations instead of traveling to another city to buy them.”
“Or,” Chelsi said, “factories could collect orders first before manufacturing goods.” Her curls bounced with her enthusiasm.
“Criminals could be caught faster,” Rebekah said. “Information about them could be sent to all the towns and all the guards could be searching for them.”
“Already happening.” The words slipped from my lips without thought.
She spun on me. “How do you know? You just make them. You don’t decide what the Council does with them.”
Dax answered for me. “For special circumstances, the stations are used for distributing information. However, that could become the norm for all criminals.”
He continued with a list of other possible uses, but my mind had snagged on Rebekah’s comment for two reasons. One, the students didn’t know about my defying the Council’s order. Amazing, considering how fast gossip and speculation shot through the Keep’s campus.
And Rebekah made an excellent point. I wasn’t involved with the decision-making process for how to use my glass messengers. Why not? A faint memory of Zitora mentioning the committee rose to the surface of my mind. At the time, I had no interest in being a part of it, trusting the Council to decide. Another mista
ke.
Dax’s voice interrupted my musings. “Think about how these stations will affect society.” He held up three long fingers. “Give me three changes we will see.”
“They will eliminate the need for long-distance messengers,” Steven said. “People will lose their jobs.”
Chelsi agreed. “Less travel means the demand for horses will drop.”
“But,” Rebekah said, “the need for caravans will increase.”
“Explain.” Dax kept one finger raised.
“If it is easier and quicker to order goods, then more merchants will place orders for merchandise from factories all over Sitia and the items will need to be delivered.”
“The demand for horses would increase then and all those out-of-work messengers can get employment from the caravan owners,” Mary said.
“Good. Do you think the government should charge people to use the relay stations?” Dax asked.
The answer was unanimous.
“Of course,” Steven said. “The stations cost money to run, and you have to pay the magician.”
Another snagged thought. The stations didn’t have to pay for the glass.
“You’ve all been focused on business and commerce. How do you think the stations will affect Sitians?” Dax asked.
Chelsi jumped in. “Arguments over priority. Some people always think their message is more important than everybody else’s.”
“Arguments over the cost. I’m sure someone will argue emergencies should be free,” Mary said.
“I’d bet a few wealthy business owners would want their own station. Pay for all the costs so they could use them anytime they wanted.”
“Ahhh.... Now you’re thinking.” Dax beamed at Rebekah. “Which creates another problem. Anyone?” When no one spoke, Dax looked at me. “Opal, you’ve been too quiet. What do you think will be the biggest problem?”
“Supply.”
“Explain.”
“As the uses for the glass...messengers increases, demand will increase. However, the supply is limited.”
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