Spy Glass g-3

by Maria V. Snyder

  Feeling smug, I withdrew the form and slapped it down in front of him. “Here’s our way into Wirral.”

  He scanned the page. “Well done.”

  “Was it a test, too? Pretending it was impossible?”

  “No. It had been impossible for you to get inside the prison.” He paused.

  I took the bait. “Me? But not you?”

  “Correct. I can get inside without donning a disguise or doing any of those other tricks. You would need a few more years of experience and training to do the same.”

  “Years?” My future life flashed before me—creeping around in the dark, being away from my family and friends—not appealing.

  “Yes. And you’ve been assessing the mission under a false assumption. One I hesitated to correct you about.”

  I braced for his revelation. “Go on.”

  “I’m not going with you. This is your mission, not mine.”

  Two seasons ago, I would have been terrified by his statement. Instead, only a nauseous anxiety swirled. I pointed to the form on the table. “What if I get caught?”

  “Mission over. You’ll have to deal with the con sequences.”

  Meaning no rescue. More than enough incentive to avoid capture. I tapped the paper. “I don’t have the resources to forge that document or the men to—”

  “My people will assist you. Just because you’re going in alone, doesn’t mean I’m not still helping.” He smiled.

  My muscles relaxed and I sagged into a chair.

  Valek drummed his fingers on the table as he considered. “Will you be able to handle the role? You’ve had some awful experiences.”

  “I can do it.” I assured him and myself. I had to do it. No other options remained.

  “Good. You have completed the first level of spy training.” He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to me. “Go on, open it.”

  Unwrapping the package with care, I half expected the contents to be another one of his tests. Nestled inside the box was a black cylinder. It was only a few inches long and as round as a coin. A glass ball filled one end and the other was hollow and had a slight lip.

  Seeing my confusion, Valek plucked the object from my hand and pulled on the lip. The cylinder extended into a foot-long tube.

  “It’s a spyglass.” He held the hollow end up to his right eye and closed the other eye. “It brings distant objects closer.” Valek gave it back to me. “Consider it a graduation present.”

  I pointed the glass at a lantern and squinted through the tube. “Incredible. Thanks.” I lowered the gift. “Do you give these to all your students?”

  “No. Each person is unique. I enjoy finding something that matches each one’s personality.”

  “And how does a spyglass fit me?”

  “You’re living in the present. It’s a reminder that you can see the future if you just point the glass in the right direction.”

  During the next five days, I checked off my to-do list. Councilor Moon hired a new assistant and I trained her. I submitted the forged paperwork. And after one of our morning training sessions, I told Nic and Eve I would be traveling to Hubal for a few weeks. No surprise Nic grumped at me, and when it was time for them to report to work, I touched Eve’s sleeve and asked her to stay behind as the other guards went inside.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, but I wanted to ask a favor.”

  Eve grinned conspiratorially. “One you don’t want Nic to know about?”

  “Exactly.” I summoned my courage and handed her a sealed letter. “If I don’t return from Hubal by midseason, can you deliver this to First Adviser Moon?”

  She peered at the envelope. I had worded the letter with care just in case Eve or Nic decided to read it before giving it to Faith. If I was caught, then all of Fulgor would hear the news. However, if Finn discovered me first, I could become a permanent occupant of the prison without anyone the wiser. I hoped it would be my insurance.

  “I wish you would trust us,” she finally said.

  I gestured to the letter. “I am. And I trust you to do your jobs. I never wanted to compromise your positions on Fulgor’s security force. That’s not being a friend.”

  “But we want to help you. We don’t mind breaking the rules for a good reason.”

  “Eve, if it was critical to Sitia or was to protect the Councilor then I would have included you right from the start. This is a selfish mission, benefiting only myself. No reason to risk your jobs.”

  She frowned and opened her mouth as if to argue, but snapped it closed and nodded. “You better be back by midseason,” she ordered.

  I gave her a mock salute. “Yes, sir!”

  Eve hurried to HQ. The empty yard matched the feeling in my chest. Last time I had gone on a mission by myself, I had gone about it the wrong way. This time I would do it right. My plan was based on strategy and planning with the best spy in Ixia and Sitia. I had confidence in my abilities. I hadn’t lied to Eve. I needed her and Nic to do their jobs.

  So why couldn’t I be content? Why the worry? Why couldn’t I be like Valek and focus on the logic? No emotion needed. Perhaps it was my lack of experience or the personal nature of the mission.

  I pushed those thoughts aside and waited for the construction crew. It didn’t take Devlen long to find me.

  “You’re leaving,” he stated.

  No surprise he could read my mood. As I had told Nic, he knew me inside and out. He reached. I stepped. Devlen wrapped me in his arms. Resting my head on his chest, I listened to his strong heartbeat.

  “If you don’t return, I’ll come for you,” he said.

  “Wait until the heating season. I have another plan in place, but it could fall through.”

  “That’s alarming.”

  I leaned back. “Alarming?”

  “It’s the first time you agreed with me. You must be worried.”

  “I’m being smart.”

  “Good. When you find your blood, you’ll need me.”

  And if I didn’t, I’d need him. No one else would understand.

  He followed my thoughts. “I’ll be here. Regardless.” Then he kissed me. Devlen drew away, trailing his fingers along my arms.

  Goose bumps raced along my skin, sending a shiver up my spine.

  “Do you remember the pressure points?” he asked.

  The pleasant tingle fled, replaced by a sudden wariness. “Why?”

  A slight cringe creased his brow at my tone, but he gestured to his torso. “If you run into trouble, there is a point that you can reach when your hands are manacled behind your back.” Grabbing my hand, he placed my fingers on a spot near his waist. “If you jab here with two stiff fingers, the person’s stomach muscles will cramp bad enough to cause them to bend over in pain. It lasts a few seconds. Long enough to follow up with another strike or to run away.”

  I moved my fingers, trying to memorize the location.

  “It’s about two inches to the left of the belly button,” Devlen said. “Practice if you have time.”

  “Thanks.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I’m already missing you.” With a slight wave, he returned to the construction site.

  Again no one appeared to notice except Pellow. Since Nic hadn’t lectured me about my illegal visits with Devlen, I assumed Pellow hadn’t been gossiping. I wondered why as I hurried home.

  Quartz and I left for Hubal the next morning. Bright sunlight lit the countryside. The cool temperature was just right for Quartz. She stretched her muscles and jumped anything she could find, including a sleeping cow. The half day’s ride ended too soon as we approached the small town by early afternoon.

  Slowing Quartz to a walk, we navigated the streets of downtown. I waited for my unpleasant memories to attack. The scars on my arms itched, but once I reached the Dolomite Inn, my mind filled with recollections of the generous innkeeper instead. He had endured the invasion of my family and friends for half a season, and had allowed my mother to take over
his kitchen.

  He greeted me with a wide smile and open arms. After Quartz was settled in the inn’s stables, I joined him in the common room. He looked the same. His bushy white eyebrows were the only hair above his big ears.

  “There was such a to-do after you left,” he said. He flagged down one the servers. “Bring Miss Opal a bowl of our marble soup,” he ordered.

  “Yes, Mister Paul,” she said.

  “Marble soup?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “The masons like it when I name dishes after the stones they carve. It brings in more customers and doesn’t cost me a thing!”

  The waitress delivered a bowl filled with a steaming white liquid. The unmistakable scent of oysters reached me. I stirred the soup with a spoon and discovered long green strings. The soup resembled the white marble streaked with green veins that was mined in Hubal. Every government building in Sitia had been built with that particular marble.

  I tasted a spoonful. The fishy flavor dominated. “What’s the green stuff?”

  Mister Paul wheezed with humor. “Seaweed. But don’t tell anyone.”

  “You’re far from the sea. This must be expensive soup.”

  “Not too bad. There’s an outfit down along the Bloodgood coast that found an abundance of oysters and they hooked up with some magician so they can ship the seafood without it going bad.”

  When I had traveled along the coastline, there had been a number of depressed towns fading into ruins. I hoped one of them had hit the oyster jackpot.

  “How do they ship it?” I asked between slurps of my soup.

  “Cold glass.”

  I almost dropped the spoon. “Really?” My voice squeaked.

  “Yeah. It’s strange stuff. The food is packed into these glass jars. They’re cold to the touch, but as soon as you open the jar, the cold disappears.” He shrugged. “Took my wife a bit to get used to it, but it works.”

  “Can I see one?”

  “Sure.” He sent another server to the kitchen.

  The soup felt as though it turned to stone in my stomach as I waited. The woman carried a jar coated with frost and handed it to me. Magic clung to it, but I couldn’t figure out what it was doing to keep the contents frozen. A rose design had been stamped into the lid.

  “Do you know who is providing these?” I asked.

  “The merchant is a Bloodgood. Said his name was Fallon. Why?”

  “Just curious.” The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I examined the jar. The cold numbed my hands, but I didn’t see anything unusual. The server returned it to the kitchen. I would have to investigate after my business with Ulrick was completed.

  “How long are you staying?” Mister Paul asked.

  “One night.”

  His ears seemed to droop in disappointment. I suppressed a smile.

  “You mentioned a big to-do after I left. What happened?” I asked.

  “Nothing bad. Just lots of visitors and officials and questions. Lots of customers!” He beamed. “They took that Donner place apart. A Master Magician and the Soulfinder stayed in my inn.” Pride puffed his chest.

  With Irys and Yelena on hand during the search, I was certain they hadn’t found a vial full of blood in the Donner factory. Otherwise Valek wouldn’t have been asking me questions about it.

  “What happened to the factory after everyone left?” I asked.

  “Closed up. It’s for sale, but no one is interested.”

  The next day, I headed north, aiming for the boarding stables Valek had mentioned. Odd for the stables to be so far from any towns. When I arrived at the tiny barn with one stable lad and one black horse, I guessed this place wasn’t on any of the official Sitian maps.

  When Valek came out of the modest farmhouse to greet me, I asked, “I thought Yelena discouraged these Ixian safe havens?”

  “She does. But they are vital to me. And until she has a better reason than promoting goodwill between Sitia and Ixia, I’m keeping them.” He glanced at the sky. “Come on in. We have much to do and we’re on a schedule.”

  He led me to a room filled with clothing, wigs, props and makeup. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought I was backstage at the Citadel’s theater.

  “Sit.” Valek pointed to a stool in front of a mirror. He poured water into a bowl and mixed a yellow paste. Turning me so I faced my reflection, he gathered my long brown hair in his hands.

  “Sorry, Opal. But—”

  “A person’s hair is one of the most recognizable features.” I repeated his lesson. “Go ahead. Get it over with.” I closed my eyes as his scissors sliced through the locks.

  As Valek cut and dyed my hair, I avoided looking in the mirror. With my hair wet and wrapped in a towel, he handed me the bowl of dye, a brush, comb and a robe.

  He gestured to the washroom, but didn’t meet my gaze. “You’ll be searched. And…um…your hair color needs to match. You know?” He squirmed in embarrassment.

  I laughed when I understood. What else could I do? Cry?

  Inside the washroom, I followed his instructions and dyed my pubic hair blond. It would be interesting to explain that to Kade. Although… I hadn’t received a letter from him, so it might not be a problem. Pain flared in my chest, but I squelched it. This wasn’t a good time. I needed to focus.

  When I finished, I joined Valek. “Blond? I always wanted to be a redhead.”

  He smiled. “Red would draw attention. Better to go with a dirty blond…I mean a…darker blond color…closer to light brown.” Now he looked panicked. “You’re blushing!”

  Huffing, he stabbed a finger at the stool. “Sit.” He rummaged for another bowl. This one contained a flesh-colored goo. He then transformed me from Opal Cowan into Rhea Jewelrose.

  I believed I was both physically and mentally ready for the mission. But when the wagon pulled to a stop in front of the small farmhouse late that evening, a rush of cold fear swept through me, leaving me weak. I wobbled.

  “Rhea, are you all right?” Valek asked. He had called me by my new name since putting the finishing touches on my disguise.

  “Fine.” I inhaled deeply, pulling in the cool night air and releasing it.

  I nodded at the two men who drove the team of horses. One stepped down and unlocked the wagon. It was more like a metal box on wheels. At least the two small windows let in air through the bars. It was empty.

  “The makeup will stay fresh for a few days. Don’t get it wet. Get in and get out as fast as possible,” Valek said.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “And don’t get caught. Yelena will kill me,” he joked.

  “I’ll be careful for your sake.”

  “Good. See you on the other side.”

  My “companions” wore guard uniforms from the Jewelrose Clan. I studied their builds and looked for the clues Valek had taught me to see through a disguise, but didn’t recognize them. A part of me had hoped Valek would use Ari and Janco as my escorts.

  I climbed inside, reviewing the plan in my mind to keep from screaming. The door clanged shut and the lock clicked into place.

  After a few moments, the convicted murderer named Rhea Jewelrose was on her way to start her prison sentence at Wirral.

  12

  “TRANSFER PAPERS?” THE BORED RECEPTIONIST ASKED.

  I stood between my escorts. They had manacled my wrists behind my back before we arrived at Fulgor’s security HQ. Valek’s people had forged the paperwork and I hoped no one would discover the fakes.

  “Collin,” the receptionist called over his shoulder. “Take her down to cell five.”

  A Fulgor guard arrived and one of my escorts removed my manacles.

  “She’s all yours,” he said as they left.

  I bit my lip and rubbed my wrists, waiting.

  “Come on,” Collin said. He swept his arm out, indicating I should go first.

  I glanced at his weapon belt, spotting a pair of manacles.

  He chuckled. “I don’t think we need them
. You’re not going to cause trouble, are you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good.” He put his hand on my shoulder and guided me to the prison cells below HQ.

  Unfortunately, I’d been here before. I would count the number of different cells I’d been in over the last year, but didn’t want to start… What? Crying? Or laughing hysterically? Both seemed possible at this moment. I swallowed the knot of emotion.

  I spent the night in cell number five. When my prison escorts arrived the next morning, my disguise and training were put to the ultimate test. I tucked a strand of my dirty blond hair behind my ear. No hair ties were allowed and with the chin-length style, my hair tended to fall into my face which itched from the putty. I now had full cheeks and a pudgy nose compliments of Valek.

  “Another killer?” Nic asked Eve.

  They stood on the other side of the bars. Eve consulted a clipboard. “Yep. Killed her husband in a fit of jealous rage.”

  “Really?” He peered at me in confusion. “She doesn’t look the type.”

  “I’m not. It was a horrible accident,” I said, pitching my voice a little higher than normal. “I’m innocent.”

  Nic glanced at Eve.

  “He fell on her knife fourteen times. A real klutz,” she said.

  He snorted. “What is it about the cold season? We get twice the number of murders during those two months.” He shook his head and unlocked the door. “Stand back.”

  I moved away and he entered, grabbing the manacles from his belt. A powerful and dizzying sense of déjà vu hit me and I swayed.

  “Easy there,” he said, touching my arm to steady me.

  I blinked. Just when I thought I understood him, Nic was being…nice? Unexpected.

  He manacled my hands behind me and guided me from the cell, resting his hand on my back. I guessed it was safer to have a prisoner in front where you could see them.

  As we walked through Fulgor’s streets, fear simmered. To distract myself from my impending ordeal, I said, “I can tell you why there are more murders during the cold season.”

  “Is this a confession?” Nic asked.

  “No.” One thing Valek had stressed—criminals always pro-claimed their innocence.

  “The cold’s the reason,” Eve said. “Her husband warmed himself in another woman’s bed.”