Shattered Glass: A Glass Series novella

by Maria V. Snyder

  “Who is it?” Zitora asks, leaning forward.

  I brace for her reaction and tell her.

  “You married Blue Eyes!” Zitora says in shock, referring to the name we’d given Devlen before we knew who he was. “How…? Why…? Isn’t he still in prison?”

  “He was released early for good behavior.”

  “Good behavior?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Start talking.” She squirms into a comfortable position.

  I fill her in on all that happened since we parted two and a half years ago. Hours later, I finish with my worries about the Sitian Council declaring martial law. Zitora asked only a few questions during my tale. She plays with the fringes from a bright orange pillow, twirling them around her finger.

  “I’m glad you messaged me,” I say. “I’ve a bad feeling that Sitia is going to need you.”

  “Me? I couldn’t even help my sister.”

  “We’re here because of you. Plus once we leave, you’ll have access to the power blanket.”

  “I guess.” Her voice is weak.

  I surge from my seat and kneel in front of her. “You guess? You’re the second most powerful magician in Sitia. There is no guessing about that.”

  “But…I… You’re so confident, Opal. It’s amazing how much you’ve changed. You talk about our escape as if it’s a sure thing.”

  “I changed because of my experiences. Plus it helps that Valek trained me. You didn’t get the chance to have as many…adventures as I’ve had or to learn how to outsmart an opponent before you left.”

  “But I still don’t know how you do it, Opal.”

  “Do what?”

  “Exist without your magic. This past year…” Zitora taps her chest. “There’s an awful…emptiness inside me.”

  “That happened to me, too. I spent seasons searching for a way to reclaim my magic, but I learned I didn’t need it to be happy. That I could fill that emptiness with family, friends and love. I don’t miss it at all.”

  “I’m glad for you, but I miss it, and I miss being part of the Council and working with the students at the Keep.”

  “Then we better get a plan pulled together. Can you draw us that map of Gunther’s manor now?”

  “Sure.”

  After Zitora left, I study her sketch. She had explored most of Gunther’s residence and remembered the vital details—guards, doors, windows, stairwells and empty rooms.

  Nic exits his room and peers over my shoulder. “That’ll help, but we’ll still need to do a thorough recon.”

  “I plan to do a sweep tonight.”

  “I’ve already seen parts of the building. I should go.”

  I turn to meet his gaze. “Ideally, we should all do a recon, but I think my training is more suited for this operation.”

  Nic huffed. “My friends are either spies or ex-cons, no wonder I haven’t been promoted in years.”

  “Eve says it’s because of your abrasive personality,” I tease.

  “Go deal with the dregs of society on a daily basis and see how long you remain civil.”

  “You can always quit.”

  “And miss out on fun and exciting missions like this?” Nic asks in mock horror. “No way.”

  I go into my room and change into my all-black one piece sneak suit. The material is skin tight to avoid snagging on anything. It has a hood, gloves and places to insert hidden items like lock picks and weapons. I smear black make-up on my face and neck.

  When I return, Nic asks, “Do you want me to distract the guards for you?”

  “No thanks. I’ll slip out a window.” Picking up Zitora’s sketch, I fold it and tuck it up my sleeve.

  “The side windows are too risky, and there aren’t any in the washroom.”

  “There are some upstairs.”

  “Show off. Don’t forget all those guards I spotted earlier.”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “Opal—”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  Nic didn’t look happy.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Escaping with Zitora and her sister is gonna be hard enough, but now we have to smuggle out two kids. How about we leave and bring the authorities back?”

  “And who do you think the authorities will believe? Three strangers or one of their very affluent community members?”

  His broad shoulders droop.

  I touch his arm. “I’ve an idea, but I need more information before I know if it’ll work or not. Okay?”

  “Okay. Good luck.”

  Returning to my room, I open the window and wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. It’s an hour after midnight and only a few lanterns glow in the compound. Except for the entrance, Gunther’s manor is dark. There are no windows on the lowest level.

  I climb down to the ground and stay in the shadows as I loop around to the back of the house. According to the map, the place resembles a giant X. The grand foyer is located at the place where the lines intersect. Gunther’s suite is at the end of the right back wing. But I’m more interested in Pirro’s office.

  Spotting guards walking in the gardens, I crouch in a shadow until they are out of sight, then I scale the wall to a window that opens into an unused room. The shutters aren’t even locked. I ease them apart and slip inside what appears to be a training room. Mats line the floor and targets hang on the walls. Practice swords and other weapons gather dust on shelves. The stale air smells of old sweat and mold.

  I cross to the door and slowly twist the knob, peering out into the hallway. No one in sight. I wait. No voices or footsteps echo off the stones. Good.

  Ghosting through the hallways, I follow the map to Pirro’s office. His door is locked, but it’s a simple pin and tumbler design and is quickly opened with my tension wrench and diamond pick. I close the door behind me and scan the room. Typical office furniture and stacks of paper decorate the area.

  Even with the shutters open, there isn’t enough light to read, so I close the shutters and risk notice by lighting a lantern, turning it as low as possible. With my heart’s fast beat encouraging me to hurry, I search through the ledgers, files and drawers. After a couple hours, I still can’t find the schedule of deliveries. Gunther must have it or it’s kept at the gatehouse. Extinguishing the lantern, I retreat to the guest quarters. The night sky is turning gray by the time I climb into my room.

  My relief is short lived as Gunther’s loud voice reverberates through the floor. “…wife dying…I insist you wake Opal this instant!”

  I yank off my suit and change into night clothes. Pulling my hair from its braid, I rake my fingers through it, making it messy as if I just woke. Then I wash the black make-up from my face and neck with the water I’ve left in a basin for this contingency.

  Nic stands at the bottom of the stairs blocking Gunther and three guards. Why is Gunther here so early?

  “It’s okay, Nic,” I say. “Gunther, your wife isn’t dying.”

  “But…she’s worse. Shouldn’t she be at least a little bit better?” he demanded.

  “Not until she’s has a few treatments.” I use my most exasperated tone to explain how the herbs need time to cleanse the blood and restore the body. “Her next dose is due in the morning.” I scowl at the faint light illuminating the window. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to change.”

  Gunther crosses his arms. He’s unhappy but unable to accuse me of anything.

  As I climb the stairs, I wonder if one of his guards spotted me and woke him? Or is he trying to unsettle me?

  After I change, I follow Gunther to Zelene’s room. Eve is mixing up Zelene’s morning potion. I inquire about my patient’s status.

  “She had a restless night,” Eve says.

  I press my hand to Zelene’s sweaty forehead. “We’ll do another course of the dreemata, and if there’s no improvement by tomorrow, we’ll move on to the langdit extract.”

  Gunther leaves when the servant arrives with breakfast. After we eat, E
ve and I retreat into Zelene’s room for a private conversation.

  “What happened earlier?” I ask Eve.

  “He burst into the room a little before dawn, looking for you.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “No. Were you seen?”

  “It sounds like it, but I think they couldn’t say for sure that it was me.”

  “He’d be an idiot to trust us now,” Eve says.

  “Then why didn’t he incarcerate us?”

  “Because he still believes you can cure me,” Zelene says. “It’s warped, but he does love me.”

  That I can understand. And perhaps we can use that to our advantage. “What if I can’t cure you? What if you’re hours away from dying, would he let you leave so a healer could heal you?”

  “Maybe, but he’d still have Zitora and our children so I’d return.”

  I consider my earlier plan. “Do you know where he keeps the delivery schedule?”

  “In the safe in his office.”

  “Combination lock or key?”

  “Combination.”

  Ah, hell. One of the things still on my spy “to-do” list.

  “I can take a crack at it,” Eve says.

  I groan. “Bad joke.”

  “No, really. I went undercover with a gang of thieves a couple years ago.”

  Eve gestures to the door. “I can use a sleeping dart on my guard. He snored through most of last night anyway.”

  “All right.”

  “What exactly are you looking for?” she asks.

  “The delivery schedule for the day after tomorrow.”

  “You think we’re running out of time?”

  “Yes.”

  I sent Eve to rest up before her night shift and asked her to have Nic do a recon of the gate area and keep an eye on the traffic.

  “I’ll stay until you return,” I say.

  Zitora arrives during the day to visit Zelene and I unlock Zelene’s cuffs so she can stretch and regain some muscle tone. Mixing up a pot of wet dog tea, I laugh when she crinkles her nose over the smell.

  “Awful, I know, but you’ll feel stronger,” I say.

  When Eve returns, I trudge back to the guest suite. The next morning, Zitora and the three of us have a conference in Zelene’s room.

  “The lock on the safe was too complex for me. It’s a top of the line brand. Sorry, Opal,” Eve says, putting a kink in my plan.

  “And the guards watch the incoming deliveries carefully,” Nic says, destroying my plan. “The wagons and men are never out of their sight so we can’t do a switch.”

  Not good. My mood sours even more when Gunther barges into the room, demanding an update.

  “I’m afraid she’s not responding to the dreemata so we’re starting her on langdit this morning,” I say.

  “And if that doesn’t work?” he demands.

  “Then we’ll have to take her to a healer or she’ll die.”

  He straightens as if I sucker punched him in the gut. Raw grief flashes, but then suspicion clouds his gaze. His large frame must have been muscular at one time. “If it comes to that, then I will take her. Not you.” He storms off.

  Nic and Eve exchange a glance. “Does that mean what I think it means?” Nic asks his partner.

  “Yup. That was hard to miss,” she says.

  “What was hard to miss?” Zelene asks.

  “We’re not leaving the compound,” I say.

  “You already suspected that,” she says, confused.

  “I did, but this confirms it.”

  “Now what?” Nic scowls and crosses his arms.

  The gesture gives me a wild idea. A do-something-surprising idea like Reema wanted. My mind churns with the possibilities as I think it through and list what can go wrong—quite a few things. And the key to success will lie with Nic.

  Nic holds his hands out and takes a step back. “Opal, why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” Eve asks.

  “Like she’s about to pounce. And not in a good way. More like a tree leopard preparing to jump on its prey.”

  “You’ve just given me an escape plan, Nic,” I say.

  “For all of us? My children, too?” Zelene asks.

  “Yes, but I’m afraid your health is about to take a major turn for the worse.”

  I detail my plan to the others. We spend the rest of the day preparing for the evening’s activities. Then I sleep for a few hours before the big show.

  At the scheduled time—two hours after midnight—I arrive at Zelene’s room with my guard.

  Eve’s man jumps to his feet as if he wasn’t just slouched on the couch drooling on the cushion. “Dawn already?” he asks.

  “No. I’ve a bad feeling and wish to check on my patient.” I enter Zelene’s room, wait a bit and then signal Eve.

  Eve rushes into the other room, ordering the guard to fetch Gunther immediately. “Zelene won’t last the night!”

  Off he goes. She returns.

  “How many guards do you think he’ll bring?” she asks.

  “Two to four,” I guess.

  She nods and readies her weapons. It doesn’t take Gunther long to burst into the room. His wild, terrified gaze scans the area as his nightshirt billows around him. Eve edges out, waving the guards back. The door closes, and it’s me and Gunther and Zelene.

  “What’s going on?” he demands. “Is she…” Pain creases his face in genuine grief.

  “She’s…going to make a full recovery!” I can’t be cruel.

  Zelene sits up. Gunther rushes over and leans in to hug her. She wraps her arms around him and, after a couple of seconds, she jabs the dart containing sleeping potion into his neck.

  He straightens, curses and yanks the dart from his skin. Pulling his arm back as if to strike her, he freezes when I press the tip of my knife to his throat.

  “Sit before you fall and crack your fool head open, Gunther,” I order.

  Gunther tries to glare, but his eyelids drift shut, and he sags to the floor asleep. I peek out the door to see how Eve is doing. Five guards litter the ground. Each one has a metal dart jutting from their necks.

  “Any trouble?” I ask.

  “No, you?”

  “Nope. Get dressed.”

  I release the cuff from around Zelene’s sore wrist, and she helps me remove Gunther’s clothes and rings. With pure satisfaction, I snap the cuff around Gunther’s fat wrist, locking it.

  There’s a commotion from the other room. I arrive in time to witness Nic tossing his guard onto the couch. The man struggles to rise, but soon goes limp.

  Nic hands me the bag. “I hope this works.”

  I point to a chair. “Sit. Eve, I need more light.”

  “You got it.” Wearing one of the guard’s uniforms, she lights a couple lanterns before stripping another guard.

  I work quickly, mixing putty to match Gunther’s skin tone, ensuring there is an ample supply. Zelene helps Eve get the rest of Nic’s costume ready.

  After an hour, I step back to examine my work. Zelene and Eve stand next to me, staring at Nic. He is wearing Gunther’s long nightshirt.

  “Well?” Nic asks.

  His fake jowls don’t jiggle as much as Gunther’s, but it’ll do. Good thing it’s a quarter moon tonight.

  “Not bad,” Zelene says.

  “Look in a mirror and see your future if you keep pigging out on your brother’s beef stew,” Eve says.

  “Not funny.” Nic pushes on the cushion tied to his torso under the shirt. Then he flexes his fingers. “How can he stand wearing all these rings? They’re driving me crazy already.”

  “Do you have the uniform for Zitora?” I ask Eve.

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Nic scoops Zelene up in his arms. She hangs limp. We head to the rendezvous point, appearing to any observers—I hope—like Gunther carrying his wife with me and a guard hurrying after them. Encountering no one, we find Zitora and two sleepy boys.
Nic lets Zelene down so she can hug her sons.

  “Any trouble?” I ask.

  Zitora grins. “Nope. As soon as Gunther left, I pricked the nanny and woke the boys.”

  “Good.” I hand her the uniform.

  Nic turns his back so she can change.

  “We’re on an adventure,” the older boy says. “To rescue Mommy! Why does Daddy look weird?”

  Zelene explains that it’s all part of the adventure and they need to be quiet and do whatever Aunt Zitora says. Wide-eyed, they nod. The little one grabs his brother’s hand.

  We resumed our positions, but with the addition of a second guard and two boys. When we close in on the manor’s front entrance, we pause for a quick recap of the plan.

  I hand out darts filled with sleeping potion. “If they don’t give way just charge them and jab these into any exposed skin. Don’t stop.” I meet Nic’s gaze. “This is all you, Nic. You ready?”

  “Yup.” Rushing forward with Zelene in his arms, Nic yells at the two guards bookending the door. “Open the door. Move it! Move it!”

  After a pause to absorb the shock, they obey without hesitation. We fly through the entrance and head for the stable. Nic orders the guards to remain at the entrance.

  Inside the stable, Nic rests Zelene on the hay wagon as Eve and Zitora scramble to hitch Ginger and Chicory. I saddle Quartz. When we finish, Eve shows the boys their hiding place under the bales. There’s a blanket for them, a handful of sweets and a couple toys.

  Sweets and toys? Eve and I glance at Nic. He’d been the one to prep the wagon. What a softy!

  Once the boys are covered, I ask Zelene, “Would Gunther drive or one of the guards?”

  “Gunther, but if he’s going to town, he’d take more than two guards.”

  “We’ll have to pick a couple up at the gate,” I say.

  “But once the sun rises, they’ll see,” Zelene says.

  Eve flashes her blowpipe. “Not a problem.”

  Charging to the gate, I have a few minutes to breathe as I ride Quartz. Except, the noise from the wagon wheels and horses’ hooves is quite loud, and my chest constricts again. By the time we reach the gate, the guards are ready and waiting. Torches blaze, and, by the light, I count six in the front row with swords in hand. And they are three rows deep. If Nic isn’t convincing, we’re all in trouble.