Janco pished.
Ari, however, peered at me with interest. “Are you one of them? Because someone like Devlen has a long way to go to be respectable.”
Annoyed, I snapped, “I’m with Kade. Devlen was just a…moment of weakness during a difficult time. That won’t happen ever again.”
“Uh-huh,” Ari said.
I crossed my arms. “Are you two here for a reason? I have to return to the party.”
“We thought we’d update you on our efforts,” Ari said.
Mollified, I nodded for him to continue.
“With the limited time, we only searched Owl’s Hill, and all the towns between Fulgor and here. Valek went farther west, past the Citadel.”
“And?” A tingle of hope bloomed.
“So far nothing.”
Hope died again.
Ari noticed. “Don’t worry. We’re bound to pick up the trail. It’s only a matter of time before we find your blood.”
“I know a way we could go faster,” Janco said, perking up.
“How?” I asked.
“We could use a Bloodhound.”
Ari and I groaned in unison.
“What? It’s a good idea,” Janco whined.
“It’s ridiculous,” Ari said. “Just because the breed—”
“I think I hear someone calling me. Gotta go.” I hurried off, leaving them to argue.
When I returned, I noticed my mother had cornered Kade. Not good. I debated rescuing him, but decided against upsetting my mother again. Coward? Who me?
Instead, I found an empty table and soaked in the revelry. My peace didn’t last long. Yelena joined me. She wore a red gown and had left her long black hair down. It flowed over her bare shoulders and matched the butterfly pendant at her throat.
“Talk to me,” she said.
“There’s nothing to talk about. My mother’s still mad, my magic’s still gone and Kade and I are fine.” For now.
She studied me and I fought the urge to squirm. I imagined she examined my soul and saw a black stain of self-pity spreading on it. Would she be disgusted?
Without any obvious censure, she asked, “Why is your mother angry with you?”
“I’ve told—”
“The real reason.”
“Leif’s Storm Thieves story—”
“No. Think.”
I swallowed a groan. “I already have a Story Weaver. I don’t need another.”
Yelena didn’t blink. “And you’ve talked about this with him?”
“He’s part of the problem!” Then it hit me. “Wait. How did you know my Story Weaver was a he? Are you reading my mind?”
“Opal, relax.” Yelena reached and cupped my face with her hands. “I can’t read your mind or soul. But it doesn’t take a magician to know you’re conflicted. You need to talk it out either with your Story Weaver, a friend or a relative.”
Yelena met two of the three requirements. Plus she also had a Story Weaver named Moon Man, but he died during the Warper Battle. And she was right. I needed to untangle this mess inside my heart. Pulling her hands down, I held them in my own and let my worries, concerns and cringe-inducing behavior pour from my mouth. I told her about Devlen, the events at the prison and the difficulties with Kade’s and my mother, leaving nothing unsaid. Breathing easier, I slouched in my chair.
She listened to the whole thing without interruption. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I can offer three bits of advice.” Her lips quirked into a wry smile. “Moon Man would be proud. First, the mothers.” Yelena let go of my hands to poke a finger into the air. “You managed to see why Kade’s mother was so hostile to you, which is a good start. Do the same with your own mother.”
“But—” The warning in her eyes stopped me.
“Second, your magic. Don’t give up hope, but at the same time formulate a backup plan. Where do you see yourself next year? What will you be doing in five years? And don’t be afraid to talk to Devlen. He’s been through it.” She glanced at Kade. He laughed at something Janco said. Ari’s don’t-encourage-the-boy scowl didn’t affect Kade’s humor.
“He should understand,” Yelena said.
“He does, otherwise he wouldn’t be here.”
“Good.”
“And third?” I asked.
“Stop being so hard on yourself about Ulrick. Valek would have gotten to him regardless of your distraction. In fact, I approved the assassination.”
I gaped at her. But before I could recover, Irys Jewelrose approached us.
“Sorry to bother you, but it’s important,” the Master Magician said. “Yelena, can I borrow Kiki? I need to get to the Citadel as fast as possible.”
Yelena stood. “What happened?”
The explanation rushed out. “It’s this very young magician we’d been keeping an eye on. He’s resisted all our help and Bain finally sent a few magicians to bring him to the Keep before he flamed out and killed himself. But he just pulled a dangerous amount of power to protect himself from them.”
“Why do you need Kiki?” I asked.
“To cut through the plains and get to the Citadel faster,” she snapped in impatience.
“But if the boy is protected and Bain can’t get close, why do you think you can?” Yelena asked.
“The boy is terrified of Bain. He doesn’t like me, but at least he’s not afraid of me. And I have to try,” she said.
“Take Valek,” Yelena said. “His immunity—”
“A good idea, except the boy is scared of men. He’s a runaway.”
“How about Fisk?” I asked. He had been homeless, but now he was the leader of the Helper’s Guild, which gave beggars and runaways jobs.
“Tried him already. Didn’t work.” Irys turned her hands up in a helpless gesture. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“A Curare-laced dart shot with a blowgun,” Yelena said.
“The boy’s built a barrier that repels objects and people. No one can get close to him.”
“Valek could disguise himself as a woman,” Yelena said.
Irys considered. “The boy’s pretty smart. He might see through the disguise.”
“And what happens when the boy discovers he’s been tricked?” I asked. “It won’t help with his trust issues.”
“That doesn’t matter right now. Saving his life and the power blanket is the most important. If we had your…”
She didn’t need to say my glass magic. If I had it, this situation wouldn’t be a problem at all. Then I closed my eyes as I realized I’d been an idiot. When I opened them, I met Yelena’s questioning gaze and nodded.
“Irys,” I said, “I’m coming with you.”
17
“YOU HAVE WHAT?” IRYS ASKED IN OUTRAGE.
I explained to her about my immunity.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Her loud question caused several guests to stop their conversations and glance our way.
“Many reasons. I promise I’ll tell you everything en route to the Citadel,” I said, getting to my feet.
Sensing something was wrong, Kade and Valek joined us.
“Can you be ready to leave in an hour?” Irys asked me.
“Yes.” I kicked off my shoes and grabbed them.
Kade opened his mouth, but I pulled him along with me as I hurried to my room. Changing into travel clothes and packing a few things, I summarized the crisis for Kade. “I know. I’m rushing off again. But how can I not?”
“You can’t.”
“Moonlight’s a Sandseed horse. Come with me?” I asked.
“I won’t be much help. And I’m needed on the coast,” he said.
Although I expected his answer, regret touched me. “I get credit for asking you. Remember that.” I poked him on the shoulder to emphasize my point. He latched onto my wrist and drew me in close.
“And I want a rain check on that dress.” He kissed me with a fierce passion that left me dizzy. He stepped back. “Remember that.”
My lips tingled. �
�Won’t be a problem.”
When I finished gathering my travel gear, I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. “Please make my apologies to my family. My mother’s going to be livid.”
“I’ll explain it to her,” Kade said.
“I’m glad you understand.”
He gave me a sad smile. “I do. Yet inside—” he pointed to his chest “—I’d rather you were coming with me to the coast.”
We joined Irys, Yelena and Valek by the horses. Both Kiki and Quartz had been saddled and were ready to go.
A slight brush of magic touched me as Yelena communicated with Kiki. When she finished, I asked her what name the horses had given me.
She chewed on her lower lip. “They aren’t very imaginative.”
“Glass Lady?” I guessed.
“No.” Yelena cocked her head, studying me. “I’m not going to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“You haven’t reclaimed it yet.”
“That doesn’t make sense. How complicated can it be? You just said they’re not imaginative.”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe why they chose that name. When you’re ready, I will tell you.” End of discussion.
Before I could protest, Valek said, “We’ll send word if we find anything.” He was referring to my blood.
“Thanks.” I hopped up on Quartz.
Irys and I said a final round of goodbyes and then turned the horses toward the Avibian Plains. When we reached the tall grasses, Irys spurred Kiki into the gust-of-wind gait and Quartz followed. The plains distorted around us as we sailed over the ground.
For the next two days, Kiki and Quartz set the pace. They stopped when they were tired, and nudged us when they wished to go. Their efforts brought us to the Citadel three days earlier than a normal horse.
We arrived in the early morning, shot through the south entrance gate and turned west. The Citadel’s streets flowed under Quartz’s hooves. Surprised shouts followed as she dodged pedestrians. Amazed at Quartz’s speed and agility after two days of hard riding, I hung on to her mane.
Zigzagging through the intricate maze of the residential quarters, I hoped we would arrive in time to save the boy.
Kiki and Quartz stopped near an entrance to an alley too narrow for them to fit.
Irys jumped to the ground. “Come on. This way.”
I hopped down. Stains and graffiti marred the white marble walls, and weeds grew through the sidewalk’s cracks. Grime coated everything. I hesitated, wondering what to do about the horses. Quartz pushed me forward. They would be fine.
As I followed Irys through the alley, the stench of rot filled my nose. I avoided the puddles of muck and heaps of trash. The passageway ended in a small courtyard. A group of people huddled on the far side.
I recognized Fisk, Master Bain Bloodgood and a few magicians from the Keep. They turned to us. Fisk transformed from worried to confused, but Bain scowled at me in displeasure. I wondered if Irys had communicated with him regarding my immunity. During the trip to the Citadel, I had explained my reasons for keeping it a secret to Irys.
“Why is Opal here?” Fisk asked. His voice had deepened since I last talked with him. He had cut his light brown hair short, and was now as tall as my brother.
The Master Magicians ignored his question.
“Status?” Irys asked Bain.
“The boy inside this dwelling is on the verge of flaming out,” Bain said. “He has pulled a huge amount of power to him, blocking anyone, including me, from getting close.”
“Doesn’t that mean he has control of his power?” I asked.
“No. The barrier he made is out of fear and it is about to rip apart.”
A disaster for magicians. Their magic came from the blanket of power that surrounded the world. If one of them yanked too hard, it will bunch and warp, creating havoc for the magicians, and killing the person responsible.
“How can I help?” I asked.
“You need to go in there and talk to him. Teach him to slowly release the magic back into the source,” Irys said.
Apprehension crawled like little spider legs over skin. “Teach him how? I don’t have any magic.”
Fisk said, “She can’t get in there. Let me try to talk to him again.”
“He’s losing it.” Irys’s face paled. “Think of the magic as a balloon filled with air. Get rid of the air without popping the balloon. Go now!”
In a panic, I ran to the doorway and bounced off a curtain of magic. After a second to recover my senses, I found the magical barrier. Pushing my hands and arms into the power, I leaned my weight forward and shoved my way into the building. I felt as if I swam in invisible mud. Every step was an effort. I fought to draw a breath. Could I drown in magic?
Struggling against the thickness, I searched the house. Damaged tables, chairs without legs and soiled bedding littered the floor. Cobwebs hung, dust motes floated and broken glass crunched under my boots. Not a home, but a shelter for those without homes. It explained Fisk’s presence.
My muscles protested the abuse. My lungs seemed to fill with magic, expanding in my chest and wheezing through my throat. I kept checking rooms until I found the boy huddled in a corner. Although I wouldn’t use the word boy to describe the wild creature who gawked at me with an exhausted terror.
His tangled, greasy hair reached the floor. Bony knees poked through tattered pants. The rest of his ragged clothes were inadequate for the cold weather. I guessed his age to be around thirteen.
He trembled and sweat dripped from his jaw. I held my hands wide, showing him I was unarmed before I crouched to his level.
“I’m here to help.” I kept my voice even, suppressing the desire to pant.
A wary, doubtful look replaced his fear. His lips whitened as he pressed them together, matching his sickly pallor. He clutched what appeared to be an apron and a teapot to his upper body.
“You’re not in trouble. You have grabbed a huge amount of magic. Can you feel it?”
He nodded.
The panic in my heart eased a bit. “Don’t let go. You need to hold on to it a little longer. Can you do that?”
This time he hesitated.
“It’s important.”
His gaze slid to a battered sleeping mat next to him. A bedraggled stuffed dog with a stained pink bow around its neck lay on a dirty pillow.
I played a hunch. “If you let go, who will take care of her?”
Alarm flashed on his face.
“Hold on for her, okay?”
This time he responded with a determined nod, tightening his grip on the items in his arms. The gesture gave me an idea.
“Imagine that the magic around us is tea, and it has filled your teapot. If you don’t pour the tea out, it will break the pot.”
“Too much tea,” he agreed with a strained high-pitched voice.
“You need to send the tea slowly through the spout, releasing it back to the sky. When the pot is empty, everyone will be safe.” I hoped.
He closed his eyes. The magic thickened. It pushed me over, clogged my nose and pressed me flat to the floor. Fear spread inside me. Could I survive a flameout at this distance? My lungs heaved, burning with the effort to draw in air.
Black-and-white spots swirled in my vision like ashes above a dead fire. The room spun and the world ceased to be for a while. Awareness of my surroundings crept in. With each blink of my eyes, the blackness faded and pale colors returned, turning into harsh brightness. Without magic blocking my nose, the powerful acidic smell of urine invaded. I sat up.
The boy was slumped over. His teapot had rolled away, but appeared to be intact. I touched his neck, searching for a pulse. Nothing. Poor kid. I covered my face with my hands, letting regret flow through me.
Eventually, I lifted my head. I had survived a flameout, and the building remained intact. I always imagined major destruction whenever a magician talked about losing control. My visions of collapsed walls and piles of rubble had been way
off the mark.
Irys rushed into the room with Fisk right behind her. She slid to a stop next to the boy and laid a hand on his head. He moaned and I jumped at the sound.
“Holy snow cats! Is he alive?” A stupid question, but my wits had scattered.
“Of course. He’s just exhausted.” Irys frowned. “And mal-nourished, and probably sick.” She scooped him up with ease. “I need to get him to the infirmary.” She aimed for the door.
“I’m so glad he lived through a flameout.”
Irys paused at the threshold. “He never lost control. Thanks to you.” She swept from the room.
I rocked back on my heels, letting the information register. I glanced at Fisk. He stood in the middle of the squalor, peering around with pain. His eyes shone with unshed tears.
“I didn’t know about this place,” he said. “I could have helped them, but they probably scattered when Master Bloodgood and his magicians arrived.”
“Won’t they come back?” I gestured to the piles of possessions.
“Maybe.” He swiped his eyes. “I’ll post a few watchers and if they return, we’ll offer them better shelter and jobs.”
I picked up the boy’s apron and teapot, figuring he would want them when he woke.
Fisk nodded with approval. “They’re probably his mother’s. My guess is she’s either dead or has abandoned him, leaving him at the mercy of his abusive father. Which would explain his fear of men.”
I pointed to the stuffed dog. “I think he might have a sister.”
“If she shows up here, I’ll make sure she knows where he is.”
Without the distraction of magic, the horrible living conditions and filth assaulted my senses. As we left, I asked, “Fisk, how does this happen? Aren’t there agencies in the Citadel to help these people?”
“There is one. And they are so overwhelmed it’s ridiculous.” He sighed. “Believe it or not, some of these people choose to live this way. They refuse all help. Others just don’t know where to go.”
“You’ve done a lot.”
“As you can see, not near enough. I tried spreading the word, but there are these little groups who stay isolated. Plus I’m dealing with vicious rumors.”
(Glass #3) Spy Glass Page 20