“Why is the flag hung over her bed?” I asked.
“It’s to keep her spirit from returning to earth,” Opal answered. “All the things that she might want to come back for are under the flag. She can’t see them there.”
I looked under the banner and spotted a small shelf filled with glass animals. The figurines were lifelike and well-made but had not captured the inner fire like the ones I had seen earlier.
“Tula gifted a couple statues and sold many others, but those she kept for herself. I tried to copy her, but mine come out differently. I have only sold a few.” She shrugged.
“You made the ones in the store window. Didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Again she made a dismissive shrug. “The store owner is a kind woman. She knew I was coming today and put them in the window. My animals are dull in comparison to Tula’s.”
“Opal, they’re stunning. How did you get them to glow?”
She pressed her hands over her heart as if she couldn’t believe what she heard. “You see the light?”
“Of course. Doesn’t everyone?”
“No!” she cried. “Only I see it—and now you!” She twirled with delight.
“And Leif. He saw it also.”
“Really? How odd. No one else in my family or my friends can see the inner light. They all think I’m daft, but they humor me anyway.”
“How do you make them?”
She explained the process of glassblowing to me. More detail than I needed, but I understood the basics.
“Usually you shape animals from solid glass, but, when I try it, the animals resemble blobs. To make a tumbler or vase, you have to blow an air bubble into the glass. I can’t do that either. I turn purple trying to get a starter bubble but have never accomplished it. However once I fail to make the bubble, I shape the piece so I don’t waste the glass. That’s when I get results. Not only does my animal look real, but a spark remains inside even when the piece has cooled.”
I thought for a moment. “But eventually the middle would cool. What keeps it glowing?”
She threw her arms out in a frustrated gesture. “I don’t know. I put my heart into these.”
The answer popped into my mind. “Magic.”
“No. Master Jewelrose has tested me. I didn’t have enough power to stay at the Keep.”
I smiled. “She should test you again.” Dax’s taunt about weird powers replayed in my mind. If Opal had been born a Zaltana, the test would have been different. “You have enough power to capture fire inside your statues.”
“Why can’t anyone else see it?”
“Perhaps a person has to have some magical ability to see the fire,” I theorized. “If that’s the case, you need to sell these at the Citadel’s market where there are many magicians.”
She pursed her lips in thought. “I obviously don’t meet a lot of magicians. Can you take one of my statues along and test your theory?”
“On one condition.”
“Anything!”
“That you let me pay for it so I can keep it.”
“You don’t have—”
I put my hand up, stopping her. “You said anything.”
She laughed. “Okay, but I’ll charge you the wholesale price. I know just the piece to give you, too. It’s in the factory.”
Opal dashed down the steps and flew out the door. The cold rush of night air reminded me that we needed to get back to the inn. I thanked Opal’s parents for the meal. They told me Leif had gone with Mara to the factory.
I found Opal there. She handed me a package. Wrapped with layers of cloth to protect the glass, the fist-size parcel fit neatly in my hand.
“Open it later,” she said. “I had another one in mind for you, but this one…called. Crazy. I know.”
“I’ve heard stranger things. I’ll write you a letter when I get back to the Keep and let you know how the experiment went.” I gently placed Opal’s package in my backpack, slung the straps back over my shoulders then paid her for the statue. “Do you know where Leif is?” I asked.
She blushed. “I think he’s sweet on Mara. They’re in the back in the mixing room. She’s supposed to be measuring sand.”
I wove my way through the kilns, workbenches and barrels of supplies. The hot air baked into my skin. Light gray smoke rose from the burning coals and flowed through the chimneys to vent outside. Opal’s family used a special white coal mined from the Emerald Mountains to heat their kilns. Cleaner than the black variety, the white coals burned hot enough to reach the two thousand degrees needed to melt the sand ingredients.
In the back room, a table filled with mixing bowls lined the far wall. Leif and Mara leaned over a deep bowl, but they were looking at each other instead of the concoction. The cloth masks used to prevent them from breathing in the fine particles hung around their necks.
I paused before interrupting them. Mara’s hands were coated with sand, and granules peppered Leif’s hair. He looked younger and his face shone with delight. It was a side of Leif I hadn’t seen before, and I wondered if he had someone he cared about back at the Keep. I realized I knew nothing about certain parts of Leif’s life.
Taking a few steps backward, I moved from their sight. I called Leif’s name loud enough for them to hear me over the noise of the kilns. He now stood away from Mara when I came into view, the sand gone from his hair.
“It’s getting late. We need to get back.”
Leif nodded but didn’t move. I understood the hint and left.
Outside the factory, a strong breeze hustled the clouds overhead. Shafts of moonlight poured from the sky between the breaks. When Leif joined me, we headed back to the inn. He was quiet.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
“No.”
After several steps, he asked, “Did you learn anything about the Vermin from Jaymes?”
“The city is worried about them, but there is no information on where they might be if they’re even here at all.” I told him about Opal’s glass animals, and he seemed intrigued by the magical element.
“Did you tell Mara about Ferde’s escape?” I asked.
“No. I just told her to be extremely careful.”
We walked for a while in silence. The air bit through my shirt and I wished I had my cloak. Booruby resided on the edge of the temperate zone with warm afternoons followed by cold nights.
“I like her,” Leif said, breaking the quiet. “I haven’t liked anyone before. Too busy and too worried about you to care for another. I couldn’t keep you safe. I didn’t lift a finger to help you. Finding you became more important than living my own life.”
“Leif, you were eight years old and would have been killed if you had tried to stop Mogkan from kidnapping me. You did the right thing.”
“Getting killed would have been easier. No guilt. No worries. No fear. Caring for someone is terrible and wonderful. I don’t know if I have the strength to do it for another. How do you deal with it?”
“I focus on the wonderful parts and suffer through the terrible parts, knowing it will end eventually.”
“Did you like Valek as soon as you saw him?”
“No. In the beginning our relationship was purely business.” The first time I had met Valek he had offered me the choice of going to the noose or becoming the next food taster. My family knew I had been the Commander’s food taster, but not why. Someday I would tell them about Reyad’s torture.
“When did your feelings change?”
That was a harder question. “I guess the first time he saved my life.” I told Leif about the Ixian fire festival and how Irys had hired four goons to kill me because my uncontrolled magic could flame out and ruin the power source.
“So the first time you met Master Jewelrose, she tried to kill you? And you told me before Valek had wanted to kill you twice. Gee, Yelena, you’re not a people person, are you?”
“There were other circumstances,” I said in my defense.
“It all sounds too comp
licated. I shouldn’t get involved with Mara.”
“That would be taking the easy road. Safe yet dull. Why do you like her?”
“She smells like the jungle on a perfect day. It’s a light whiff of the Ylang-Ylang flower combined with the sweet aroma of living green and a touch of the nutty earthy essence. It’s a scent you can wrap around yourself and feel at peace. Only those dry and sunny days will produce that smell, and they are as rare as a solid-white valmur.” Leif took a deep breath. “She has a soothing, contented soul.”
“Sounds like she might be worth the effort. There might be plenty of rainy days, but those perfect ones will make all the memories of rain disappear.”
“Is this from experience?”
“Yes.”
We reached the Three Ghosts Inn and entered the building. Moon Man and Tauno sat at one of the tables in the common area. Customers filled the room.
Tauno held a bloody cloth to his temple and his split lower lip bled.
“What happened?” I asked when we joined our friends. “Where’s Marrok?”
Tauno’s face was glum. He glanced at Moon Man as if seeking the Story Weaver’s permission.
“We found the Vermin,” Tauno said. He winced. “Or I should say they found us. A group of five soldiers with the Soulstealer and Cahil. They surrounded us, dragged us into a building and threatened to kill us. Cahil drew Marrok away and they had a private discussion. They laughed and left together, seeming the best of friends.” Tauno put a hand to his ribs and cringed with pain. “The others descended on me and I have no memory except waking in the empty building.”
“When did this happen?” I asked.
“This morning.”
“I am glad he is alive, but I wonder why they did not kill him,” Moon Man said.
Contemplating the situation, I said, “Taking a captive through crowded streets would be difficult. If they wait until nightfall to perform Kirakawa on him they risk being discovered.”
“So why not just kill him?” Moon Man asked.
“Because they want us to know they have Marrok,” Leif said.
“As a hostage?” Moon Man asked.
“No. Marrok left with Cahil. They’re flaunting the fact that Marrok is now with them,” I said. “And they know everything he knows. Including our present location.”
13
“DO YOU THINK THEY WILL attack us here?” Leif asked.
I glanced at the fire warming the inn’s common room. Would the Fire Warper risk being seen by the other guests?
“They could watch the building and follow us, waiting until we get to a secluded spot to attack,” Moon Man said.
“That’s a happy thought,” Leif muttered.
I reached out to Kiki. She dozed in the stable but roused at my light mental contact. If Vermin skulked around the inn, she and the other horses would be upset.
Smell? I asked.
Night. Straw. Sweet hay, she said.
All good for now.
Kiki help? Watch. Listen. Smell for you.
What if you get tired?
Rusalka. Garnet. Take turns.
Good idea. I’ll come and open the doors.
Lavender Lady stay. Kiki do.
I smiled, remembering how she had unlatched her stall door in the Keep’s stable when Goel had attacked me. One of Cahil’s men who held a grudge, Goel hadn’t seen her. Probably hadn’t known what hit him until he regained consciousness among the broken boards of the pasture’s fence.
“…Yelena? Hello?” Leif poked my arm.
“I’m here.”
“What are we going to do?” Leif asked me.
“It’s too late to go anywhere else. Kiki and the horses will watch the outside of the building and alert me if anyone approaches.”
“Ooh, guard horses. How quaint.” Leif pointed to the hearth. “What if Mr. Fire Warper decides to jump out of the fire? I don’t think Mrs. Floranne will be serving him a bowl of her stew.”
“Can we douse the fire?” I asked.
“No,” Leif said. “The inn will get too cold and Mrs. Floranne won’t have hot coals for breakfast.”
“Leif, do you always think with your stomach?” I asked.
“Is there any other way?”
I sighed. “We’ll post a watch inside. Moon Man, how many entrances to this building?”
“Two. The main one leading to the street, and one in the back through the kitchen.”
“How about upstairs? Is there another staircase in the kitchen?”
“Yes, but we can secure the door into our hallway.”
“Good. We’ll each take a two-hour watch. I need to rest after I heal Tauno’s injuries so I won’t take the first shift. Moon Man can start, followed by Leif, me and Tauno.”
We left Moon Man in the common room. I helped Tauno to his room. Stiff and sore, he moved with care. When he was comfortable on the bed, I pulled a string of power and examined the damage. Aside from two broken ribs, his other wounds were minor. Staring at his injuries until they transferred to me, I hunched over with the pain and then pushed it away.
Tauno squeezed my hand in thanks before falling asleep. I trudged to my bed, not as exhausted as I had been in the past. Perhaps my healing skills improved with practice. Or had I grown used to relying on my magic?
“Yelena, wake up.” Leif shook my shoulder.
I peered at him through heavy eyes. He placed the lantern on the table.
“You’re the one who set the schedule. Come on.” He pulled the blanket off me. “Most commanders don’t take a turn guarding the troops. They get a good night’s sleep so they can make the right decisions in the morning.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes. “I’m not a commander and we’re not a troop.”
“I disagree. You’ve been leading the way. You’re the one who knows what you’re doing.”
“I—”
Leif put his fingers on my lips. “Don’t say it. I like—no—need to believe that you know what you’re doing. Makes it so much easier to follow your instructions, especially when I’m acting as bait for a fifty-foot-long snake.”
“Fine. I have things well in hand. I don’t need much sleep because I have all the steps we need to take already planned out. Happy now?”
“Yes.” Leif stretched out on his bed.
I picked up the lantern. “Sweet dreams.”
“They will be now.”
The hallway of the inn was dark and quiet. I checked the door leading to the kitchen stairs. It remained locked tight. Good. Descending into the common area, I thought about Leif’s comments. I might be the one making the decisions, but I didn’t believe I had enough knowledge to be a commander. Gut instinct still propelled my actions.
Valek had taught me about strategy and clandestine operations, and my Ixian friends, Ari and Janco, had taught me to fight. Late-night sessions with Janco were the reason I could pick locks. However, my magical training with Irys had been interrupted by Ferde’s quest for power.
There could be a magical way to find Ferde and counter a Fire Warper, but since I hadn’t read all those books about magic and history, and I hadn’t explored my powers to find their limits, he was the test I hadn’t studied for, the quiz I was bound to fail. Out of my depth.
The empty common room echoed with my footsteps. I made a circuit of the area to check for intruders before I set the lantern down and went outside to visit the horses. The cold air stabbed through my cloak.
Kiki stood in the alley next to the inn. Her dark coat blended with the shadows, but the white blaze down her face reflected the moonlight.
Smells? I asked, reaching up to scratch behind her ears.
Fresh. No bad.
Any trouble?
She snorted with amusement. Two men. Woman.
She replayed the memory of two men robbing a woman. They had been so preoccupied with searching her packages they failed to notice Kiki’s quiet approach. Quiet, because Kiki, like all the Sanseed horses, refused
to wear metal horseshoes.
Kiki had spun and used her back legs with expert precision. The men landed half a block away, and the woman, after staring wide-eyed at Kiki, took off in the opposite direction. I wondered why the lady had been out so late.
She’ll probably spread rumors about being rescued by a ghost horse, I said to Kiki. Maybe they’ll change the inn’s name to Four Ghosts.
I like ghosts. Quiet.
You see ghosts?
Yes.
Where?
Here. There. Places.
Here? I looked around. The empty street seemed deserted. I don’t see any.
You will. She nuzzled my cloak, sniffing the pockets. I like peppermints, too.
I gave her the mints. Care to elaborate on the ghost issue?
No.
She retreated down the alley and I returned to the inn. The lantern’s flame flickered as I made another sweep of the kitchen and rooms upstairs before settling down near the hearth. Embers glowed within the remains of the fire. Suppressing my apprehension, I added a few logs to coax the coals into a small fire to heat water for tea. Such a diminutive blaze shouldn’t be big enough for the Fire Warper.
Perhaps the size of the fire equaled the size of the Fire Warper. The image of a foot-tall Fire Warper leaping from the hearth caused me to laugh, but knowing he needed only one flame to start a fire ruined my good humor.
Searching my pack for tea leaves, I found Opal’s package. Curious to see which glass animal had called to her, I unwrapped the thick cloth. A charcoal-gray bat with green eyes came to life in my hands. I almost dropped the piece in surprise, but even with its wings outstretched the palm-size creature didn’t take flight. Opal’s magic—not life—glowed from the core of the bat. Closer examination revealed flecks of silver along the bat’s body and wings.
An invigorating tingle swept up my arm. I mulled over the benefits of being a creature of the night. Could I locate Marrok or Cahil now while the city slept? Drawing power, I projected my mind and encountered a confusing array of dream images. Once again too many people for me to sort through. I pulled back.
The water bubbled. With reluctance, I returned the statue to my pack and found the tea. Over my steaming cup, I watched the miniature fire. I considered making an attempt to contact Bain Bloodgood. The Second Magician might have some advice on how I could find one soul among so many.
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