“Seven to nine days, depends on how far south the magician lives. We’ll stay on the beach most of the way. Master Bloodgood said it would be the fastest route.”
“What about the horses? They’ll need fresh water and more grain.”
“There are a few coastal towns along the way. We’ll stop there for supplies and sniff around.” Leif smiled.
His comment led me to wonder about the magician’s wild magic. “How do the Masters know someone is out of control? The Bloodgood peninsula is a long way from the Keep.”
“They flash. Without any control over what they’re doing, they’ll grab power and use it all at once. It sends ripples in the power blanket, alerting the Masters. It usually takes a few flashes for the Masters to pinpoint the location of the wild magician.” Leif’s gaze grew distant. “It’s how Irys found Yelena. She flashed while Irys worked undercover in Ixia. Yelena learned how to control her power, but if she had been too close to flameout, Irys would have killed her.”
And now Irys and Yelena were good friends. Interesting. “Have the Masters killed many people?”
“Six in the last fifty years.” He dug his fingers into the sand. “I was there for three of them. My abilities helped the Masters find the person faster. Fortunately, that is a rare event. They usually find the magician before it becomes necessary. And now with your glass animals and their inner glow, Irys has a foolproof way to identify those who have power. This is the first person she missed in five years.”
“Why didn’t the Masters sense this person before now?”
Leif played with the sand, letting the grains pour off his palms. “This one is...different. He or she has flashed twice in the past season. The first one was minor and didn’t cause too much concern. But the second was huge, bordering on flameout. That’s why we’re scrambling to find him or her.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “But this time, we won’t have to terminate the person.” Leif’s excitement lit his face. “Your ability to siphon the magic will solve the problem.”
Despite my annoyance at the Council, I was glad that my strange glass magic would help someone.
* * *
The days and nights blurred together as we set a fast pace. We slept on the beach during our short breaks. The Cliffs turned into hills, then smoothed into dunes. On the fourth—fifth?—day we stopped at a small seaside town. Faded paint peeled off wooden buildings and crushed seashells paved the streets.
As we rode through the two blocks of downtown, the residents gawked at us. By the way the children chased after us and pointed, I figured the place didn’t get many visitors. Windows had been boarded up. Only one inn remained open for business.
We rented a room. First thing I did was order a bath. Sand filled my boots and stuck to my skin. I decided I liked it much better melted as glass.
The town’s sad state wasn’t unique. During the next two—three?—days of our trip, we rode past other settlements. All weathered and lacking vitality.
But on the day Leif turned serious about sniffing out the wild magician, the beaten-down buildings changed into well-cared-for dwellings. Shoppers bustled in the market. Residents smiled and commented on the weather.
During dinner that night, I asked Leif about the difference.
“Oysters,” he said. “We’re getting closer to the oyster farms. Lots of jobs and money associated with harvesting oysters and selling the pearls. Since these pearl-growing oysters were discovered off the Bloodgood peninsula, business has been booming.”
Our pace slowed as we rode through the clusters of oyster farms. Leif combed through the streets, searching for the wild magician. He talked to various townspeople. When a person started to display signs of magic, gossip and speculation would spread.
However, no one had heard rumors and most residents seemed surprised. After three days of nothing, Leif speculated the magician might be inland. He contacted the Master Magicians, but they insisted we stay on the coast.
“It’s been ten days. How much longer?” Skippy asked.
“As long as it takes,” Leif snapped. “If you ask that question again, I’m going to punch you.”
On the eleventh day, we met with one of the town’s leaders. He didn’t know of anyone with powers, but he had some suspicions.
“There’s a group living on the tip of the peninsula. They keep to themselves, so anything is possible with them. About twice a season, they send the same three men to sell their pearls and buy supplies.” He adjusted his straw hat. The wide brim blocked the sun from his gray eyes. “They built a wall, blocking access to the tip. We’ve gotten the hint that visitors aren’t welcome. But if you’re here as representatives of the Master Magicians and the Council, they have no legal recourse to block you.”
That was the kicker. Legal versus illegal.
“How far from here?” Leif asked.
“About four hours on horseback. There’s not much between our town and the tip. Heck, I’m surprised they can harvest oysters on that rocky point. The currents whip around there, making it dangerous to swim.”
We all glanced at the sea as if we could see the tide. The sun dipped into the horizon, sending ripples of color.
“We’ll wait until tomorrow,” Leif said, then thanked the man.
Renting a room at one of the local inns, we dumped our bags on the floor and discussed strategy.
“If you notice, I never say wild or uncontrolled magician,” Leif said. “People know those words can get someone killed and they’ll lie to you. New magician is a better descriptor.”
“Why are you telling us?” I asked. “You’ve been doing all the talking.”
“This situation could be trouble. The leaders may be suspicious. They may separate us in order to question us alone—make sure our stories match.” He stretched out on one of the four beds. “I’ve dealt with isolated groups of people before. They don’t like strangers and authority. We’ll need to tread carefully. And follow my lead. Go along with anything I say, even if it doesn’t make sense.”
“And how’s that different than normal?” I teased.
He threw a pillow at me. I caught it and plopped it on my bed.
“Did you bring your switchblade?” Leif asked.
“Yes. Why?”
“They’ll probably confiscate our weapons, claiming they don’t allow violence within their territory, but promising to return them when we leave.”
“Yet, they’ll be well armed. Right?” I asked.
“Yep. And they’ll have a justifiable reason as to why. Don’t believe everything they tell you, either. Otherwise, you’ll want to join them.”
“It’s a good thing I have Skippy here.”
The magician didn’t even bother to correct me. He glared, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“I’ll bite. Why is it good he’s here?” Leif asked.
“I’m sure he has orders to make sure I return to the Keep. If I decide to go native and dive for oysters, he’ll save me.”
“You’re right. Wow. He’s actually going to be useful. I need to write home about it.” Leif searched through his bag as if looking for paper.
Skippy ignored him. He gathered a few items and left for the washroom. I noticed he walked with a slight limp. We’d been on horseback for a week and a half. Skippy started bugging Leif about travel time a few days into our trip. Standoffish and snide remarks were expected, but not whiny.
When Skippy returned, I kept an eye on him as he prepared for bed. His stiff movements and little winces confirmed my suspicions.
I stood and stretched, groaning a bit over my aching ribs. “Phew. I’m saddle sore. Do you have any barbasco yams, Leif?”
“Of course.” He dug through his supplies, pulling out an orange lump. He sliced a section off and handed it to me. “I could use some, too.” Cutting a few more p
ieces, he popped one into his mouth. Then he reached over with a casual motion and gave one to Skippy.
I looked away before Skippy caught me staring. Arranging my pillows, I chewed on my yam, then slipped into bed.
* * *
“That’s a heck of a wall,” Leif said.
As we traveled toward the peninsula’s tip, the land narrowed until the sea was visible on both sides of the trail—more like a goat path. Black rocks and sand dominated the landscape. A few bushes and trees clung to life, but, other than the occasional gull swooping above, the area was barren.
I agreed with Leif. It was an impressive barrier. Boulders had been stacked together, forming at least an eight-foot-high wall. Sitting on Quartz, I still couldn’t see over it. The barricade spanned the entire length of the peninsula. Continuous except for a sturdy iron gate.
“I bet the gate’s locked,” Leif said. “Any takers?”
“No. Go on,” I urged. “Knock.”
Leif dismounted and strode up to the gate. “Hello?”
A well-armed man appeared on the other side. “What do you want?” he demanded. His manner oozed hostility and contempt.
“Good morning to you, too,” Leif parried with sarcasm.
The man’s deadly gaze would have sent most people running.
All pleasantness dropped from Leif’s face. He stepped forward, his nose an inch from the gate. “I want to talk to the person in charge. Now.”
“Why?”
“Not your concern.”
The big brute towered at least a foot over Leif. Stubble covered his cheeks, chin and the top of his head. “Request denied.”
“Fine. I’ll come back with the authorities.” Leif turned to us. “Do you think we should tell Bain? Perhaps he would want to join us.”
“Oh yes,” I said. “First Magician is a Bloodgood. He’ll want to visit his family, and the sea air would be healthy for him.”
“Who are you?” the guard asked.
“I am Leif Liana Zaltana, a representative of the Sitian Council.”
The man failed to look impressed.
“Either fetch your boss or I’ll fetch a squadron of soldiers,” Leif said.
“Jay, get Walsh,” he barked to another person beyond our view. He kept his gaze on us.
We didn’t wait long. Soon another man arrived. Walsh perhaps. He was a few inches taller than the guard, and a lot thinner—almost skeletal. His white tunic and pants hung on his frame. The sun had bleached his long blond hair almost white.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded.
“Are you in charge?” Leif asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I need to speak with you. In private.”
“Jay said you’re from the Sitian Council?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll need proof. We don’t...associate with many people outside our family.”
Leif opened one of his saddlebags and brought out a scroll. He handed the document through the bars to Walsh. The man unrolled it and scanned the paper.
“Open the gate,” Walsh said to the guard. “I would apologize, but we don’t usually receive unexpected visitors. Since we harvest pearls, we are naturally suspicious of foreigners. If you had sent me a message and arranged a meeting...” He swept a bony hand out as if to imply none of this would have happened.
“Our business is urgent. We didn’t have time for protocol.” Leif walked Rusalka through the gate.
Skippy and I dismounted and followed. Walsh led the way. Right past the wall were cottages made of bamboo. They were lined up with such precision, it looked as if they had been planted there. Farther out, near the tip of the peninsula, wooden buildings hugged the beach. People scurried between the water and the structures. A few carried buckets, while others pushed wheelbarrows.
Walsh guided us to a stable, then to a smaller building nearby. Inside was his office. Gesturing toward a round conference table ringed with wooden chairs, he invited us to sit down. He asked his assistant—a young girl around fourteen years old—to bring tea and fruit.
When she hurried away, he finally introduced himself. “I’m Walsh Bloodrose. Elected representative of my family.”
“Bloodrose isn’t a clan name,” Leif said.
Walsh’s laughter rasped in his lungs and transformed into a coughing fit. “Sorry. I forget. My family has so many Bloodgoods and Jewelroses that we stopped keeping track long ago and just use Bloodrose.” He wiped the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief. When he composed himself, he studied me and Skippy. “You haven’t introduced your companions.”
“This is Opal Cowan and Hale Krystal.”
He nodded to us, but his gaze lingered on my sais. So far, Leif’s predictions about our reception hadn’t all come true. We kept our weapons and we were still together. His assistant returned. She carried a trayful of fruits and tea. Putting her burden on the table, she poured a cup of tea for everyone, then bolted.
“Now, what is this urgent business of yours?” Walsh asked.
Leif explained about searching for a magician.
“Then you have found him.” Walsh spread his arms wide. “I’m Keep trained. I graduated about twenty years ago.”
“A new magician. Someone who might not even realize they have power,” Leif said.
Anger flared in Walsh’s eyes, but he blinked it away. “No. Not here. I would have sensed him or her.”
“Do you mind if we have a look around?” Leif asked.
Walsh’s hesitation lasted a mere heartbeat. “Of course not. I’ll give you a tour of our oyster farm.” He swept out of the office, leaving us to follow in his wake.
He headed toward the beach on the northern side of the tip. Coarse yellow sand mixed with gray rocks extended into the sea. The building nearby wasn’t as solid as it appeared from a distance. The side facing the sea was open, letting in the cool breeze, while the roof kept the sun off the workers.
“It’s a simple operation. The younger members of our family harvest the oysters from the sea and bring them here.” Walsh gestured to the women and men sitting at long tables, prying open shells.
Pearls were placed in small containers and the oysters were scraped out into another. The children carted buckets filled with oysters from the sea and dumped them onto the tables. They returned to the surf and waded into the waves.
“What’s going on over there?” I asked, pointing to the southern side.
“Same thing,” Walsh said. “We use both sides. The pearls pay for supplies. A person can only eat so many oysters.”
“How many people live here?” Leif asked.
“Two hundred fifty-three and two halves.”
“Halves?” I asked.
“Two ladies are expecting babies in a few months. We count them as halves until they’re born.” He beamed with pride.
I noticed a few men standing around. Unlike the workers, they were armed.
Walsh noticed my gaze. “Guards,” he said. “Pearls are expensive. We’ve had thieves and pirates steal them from us.” He tsked. “It’s why we built the wall and have armed men on the beach.”
His comments were reasonable. Leif walked ahead of us. I guessed he sniffed for the wild magician. He wandered onto the beach, then turned south.
Walsh intercepted him before he moved too far away. “The best way to meet all my family is for you and your companions to stay for dinner. Everyone comes to the dining hall. And you’re welcome to stay overnight if it gets too late. We have a few empty cottages just in case.” He smiled, revealing stained teeth.
Skippy and I looked to Leif. He nodded, agreeing to dinner.
“Wonderful. Everyone will be so pleased.” The skin around Walsh’s mouth stretched wider, resembling a grinning skull. “You can tell us news f
rom the Citadel. We haven’t had visitors in...” His gaze drifted to the guards as if the memory of the last visitors hadn’t gone well. “A while. Brand,” he called. One of the guards left his post and joined us. “Please show them to our guest cottage. Also point out the dining hall and washhouse. We ring a dinner bell, so you won’t miss it. Make yourselves at home.” Walsh gave us a jaunty wave and returned to his office.
Brand played tour guide. Another cluster of buildings was located behind Walsh’s office. He jabbed a thick finger at them. “Food’s in the blue one and the baths are in the yellow.”
Good thing he mentioned the colors as all the structures looked the same—one-story tall, wooden and a basic rectangular shape. In other words, boring.
“What’s the red one?” I asked.
“That’s the school.”
“And the green?” Leif asked.
“A recreation room and common room. The gray one is storage and an infirmary, which is mainly used for the children’s cuts and scrapes. There’s a birthing room, though. We have our own midwife.”
The stark compound lacked personality. Pure function. No gardens or flowers or artwork. At least none visible. Perhaps they decorated their cottages. As we entered into the guest quarters, I thought perhaps not.
Plain walls, drab-colored blankets and practical table and chairs.
“The dinner bell will ring in two hours,” Brand said. He left.
We waited a few minutes, making sure he was out of range before saying anything.
“This is...” I cast about for the right word.
“Weird,” Leif said. “I’m getting all kinds of emotions from these people. But they don’t feel right.”
“Did you sense the wild magician?” Skippy asked.
“No, but I haven’t gotten close to everyone yet.”
“What did you mean by right?” I asked.
“When outsiders arrive, the reaction is usually curiosity mixed with a little apprehension and a bit of excitement. These people are afraid and worried. Also there’s a sense of urgency and secrecy. They could be hiding the magician, and we could be causing the fear. But no curiosity. No excitement. Not even from the children.”
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