Spy Glass

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by Maria V. Snyder


  With a shriek, she dropped the shank, and I increased the

  pressure, forcing her to her knees.

  My attack lasted seconds. By the time her gang recovered

  from their surprise, she was at my mercy.

  “Keep your distance or I’ll break her arm,” I ordered.

  They hesitated. Without their leader, they didn’t know what

  to do. I met the Black Sergeant’s gaze. He nodded.

  “I’ll make this simple,” I said to the others. “Stay away from

  me or you’ll end up like her.” Pinching my finger and thumb,

  I sent a fresh wave of agony up her arm.

  She screamed and writhed on the ground. I waited until

  she passed out, then released my grip. Standing over her prone

  form, I made eye contact with each woman. No one chal-

  lenged me.

  Satisfied, I picked up the shank and joined the Black Ser-

  geant. He hadn’t moved from his post. I handed him the

  weapon.

  “Impressive,” he said. “Too bad those moves won’t work

  for you tomorrow.”

  I hoped I wouldn’t be here then. Because he was right.

  Back in my cell, I waited. It occurred to me that most of the

  time needed to carry out a mission involved waiting. And the

  inactivity wore on my nerves. Finally, after confirming the

  LT’s departure for the evening and listening for the midnight

  check to finish, I prepared for my foray into the SMU. Even

  though I had lost the tools and weapons in my clothes, I still

  had a few tricks up my sleeve. Well… Not quite my sleeve.

  I pulled my jumpsuit down and dug my fingernails into

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  the skin on the outside of my right thigh, peeling away the

  strange putty Valek used to cover the lock picks glued there.

  He had matched my coloring so well, two strip searches hadn’t

  discovered it.

  On my left thigh, I uncovered a few other surprises. Once

  all my goodies were in their proper places, I lay on the bed, or rather the metal shelf covered with a thin mat, and sang one

  of my favorite songs off-key. Happy my voice didn’t warble

  with the nervous fear humming in my blood, I belted out the

  lyrics.

  “All right, songbird, quit the concert,” the CO ordered

  through the bars.

  “No.” I started the second verse.

  She grumbled something about teaching the new girl as she

  unlocked the door and entered my cell. “Stand up.”

  I noticed she kept her distance. The Black Sergeant must

  have told her about my use of the pressure points in the yard.

  I stood and faced her.

  She gestured to the back wall. “Secured position. Now.”

  “No.”

  The officer’s foot kicked toward my ribs, but I dodged to

  the side and trapped her leg. I jabbed a dart into her calf and depressed the little plunger, squirting liquid into her body.

  She yelped and jerked her leg free, staring at me in horror.

  “What the…?” Her confusion softened.

  She staggered and I caught her before she hit the f loor.

  I dragged the now-sleeping woman over to the bed and

  undressed her. Pulling clothes off an unresponsive body

  was harder than I imagined. I tugged and swore under my

  breath, wasting precious time. The next check would be in

  an hour.

  Once I finished, I changed into her uniform, smoothed

  my hair and locked the CO in my cell. I stopped at her desk,

  rummaging for a piece of paper. Folding it in half, I used the

  CO’s keys to access the stairs and headed down to the SMU.

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  After another set of doors, I approached the main entrance

  to the wing. A single CO sat behind a gray metal desk. As

  soon as he spotted me, he jumped to his feet. Suspicion creased his face.

  I waved the paper. “Message from the warden.”

  “At this hour?”

  I feigned shock. “Haven’t you heard?”

  “Heard

  what?”

  “Rioters attacked the Councilor’s Hall. They’re holding

  the Councilor for ransom.”

  A slight hesitation. “And?”

  “The Fulgor security force is worried they will demand

  certain prisoners to be released. The details are all here…” I

  stepped closer.

  He reached for the paper and I pricked him with a dart.

  “Hey!” Grabbing my arms, he dragged me toward him.

  “What did…?” He swayed.

  I steadied him. “Sit down before you fall down.”

  He plopped into the chair and slumped over the desk, sound

  asleep. I silently thanked Valek’s fast-acting sleeping juice. The last barrier between me and Ulrick remained. This would be

  difficult.

  The steel gates into the SMU could only be opened from

  inside. I pounded on them. After a few moments, a small panel

  slid to the side.

  A hotshot peered through the opening. “What?”

  Relief that it wasn’t Finn or one of his goons spread through

  me as I pointed to the side. “Your man is sick, and he can’t

  go to the infirmary by himself. I’d take him for you, but he

  won’t leave his post unmanned.”

  “What are you doing up here?”

  “Delivering a message.” I held up my paper and explained

  about the Councilor.

  “What’s the word?” he asked.

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  “Scratched.” One of the benefits of the silence rule in the

  Black Widows’ wing—learning today’s password.

  The panel slid back into place. I crossed my fingers as my

  heart did calisthenics. A series of snaps and clicks sounded

  before the gate swung out. The hotshot nodded to another

  behind him and glanced at the sleeping man. He sighed.

  “Deggan, stay in the unit. I’ll cover until a replacement shows.”

  He cleared the threshold. “Let me see the message.”

  When I handed the paper to him, I poked a dart into his

  hand. He f linched.

  “Sorry, my ring must have—”

  He turned away. “Deggan, lock down!” he yelled before

  collapsing onto the f loor.

  Damn. I jumped over him and rushed Deggan, who tried

  to close the gate. Tackling him to the ground, I jabbed his leg.

  Not the smoothest move, but it worked. He remained still.

  Another victim of Valek’s juice. Two darts left.

  I tried to drag the men into the SMU wing to hide them,

  but they were too heavy. Plus the lack of time. Once my CO

  was discovered missing, escaping the prison would be impos-

  sible. Right now, I had a fifty-fifty chance.

  The cells in this wing had no bars. They had solid metal

  walls, and steel doors with slots for food trays and a window

  like the one on the gate. Only a couple lanterns had been

  lit.

  Hurrying through the wing, I counted cells. From various

  overheard conversations, Valek had determined Ulrick’s loca-

  tion. Although, considering his recent comment about being

  able to get into the prison, I wondered if he’d already been

  inside.

  I skidded to a stop in front of number ten. Sliding back the

  cover on the window, I peered into
the cell. Darkness spilled

  out between bars. I would have to trust Valek.

  “Ulrick,” I whispered through the opening. Nothing.

  “Ulrick, it’s me, Opal,” I called louder.

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  A rustling sound reached me and Ulrick appeared.

  “Opal?”

  He met my gaze and I gasped. Haggard, hollow-eyed and

  looking years older, he blinked at me without emotion. The

  fire gone from his green eyes.

  “Nice try, Finn,” he said. “But you don’t even look like

  her.” He sighed. “Which means you lied about seeing her in

  Fulgor.” He turned away.

  “Wait! It’s me. I’m disguised as a CO.”

  Returning to the window, he said, “That’s a new one. At

  least you got the voice right.”

  “Ask me something only I would know.”

  “Nope. Not playing your games anymore, Finn.”

  Frustrated, I peeled the putty from my face, yanking off

  the padding around my nose. “It’s me!”

  He considered. “What are seeds?”

  “Bubbles in the glass.”

  “Too easy. What killed the leader of the Storm Thieves?”

  “I

  did.”

  An incredulous laugh burst from his lips. “It is you! Only

  Opal would blame herself and not the Greenblade bee for his

  death.” Then he sobered. “Why are you here? Did you come

  to gloat?”

  “Of course not. I need information.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why would I tell you anything? You’re

  the reason I’m here.”

  Sudden fury welled. “No, I’m not,” I snapped. “Your own

  selfish actions led you here.”

  “You stole my magic!”

  “It wasn’t all yours. Most of it was mine, and you left me

  with no other choice than to suck us both dry!” Anger burned

  through me and I didn’t care if I shouted. “Take responsibility for your own actions, Ulrick. Admit your mistakes and make

  amends.”

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  “Like Devlen? Don’t tell me he’s still conning you? How

  stupid can you be?”

  “I’m smart enough to avoid the lure of blood magic. It

  made you greedy for power.” Nic’s comment about greed and

  stupidity being the downfall of many criminals replayed in

  my mind.

  “You think you can resist blood magic? Overcome the ad-

  diction?” Ulrick asked.

  “Of course. And I don’t have the time to argue with you.

  I need—”

  “I know what you came for, Opal. What do I get in

  return?”

  “I can appeal to Councilor Moon and the rest of the Sitian

  Council to not execute you.” My offer had an unexpected effect.

  Instead of looking relieved, Ulrick blanched. “No deal. I’d

  rather die than be in this hell for the rest of my life.”

  After spending a day here, I understood. “How about

  if I promise to inform the Councilor about the horrid

  conditions?”

  “Can you kill Finn for me?”

  “Tempting, but no. I could try to get him fired.”

  “Not enough.” He considered. “And Miss Goody-Goody

  wouldn’t help me escape. Would she?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t have much to offer.” He stared at me a moment.

  “I wasn’t planning on telling you, but I changed my mind.

  Since Miss High and Mighty thinks she can resist the lure of

  blood magic, I’m going to tell you where you can find your

  blood.” Ulrick explained where he hid it. “The rules still apply whether the blood is yours or not. You’d better talk to the

  Councilor about the conditions in here before you become an

  inmate. See you later, Opal.” Ulrick retreated into the dark-

  ness of his cell.

  I slid the window shut as a variety of emotions twirled in

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  my chest. Relief mixed with fear—he could be right about

  becoming addicted even if I’d use my own blood. I shoved

  my concerns aside. It was time to escape.

  A good plan, except a sizzling whoosh sounded as all the

  lanterns blazed at once. Squinting into the sudden brightness,

  I froze.

  Finn and his goons—Erik, Carrl and Lamar—stood be-

  tween me and freedom.

  Not waiting for Finn to mak e the first move, I threw a dart at him, aiming for his neck. He def lected the

  weapon with his magic, sending it skittering along the wall

  before it landed on the ground.

  He advanced. “What a lovely reunion. I think I might

  cry.” Finn mimed wiping tears as he sniffed. “I knew that rat

  would squeal to you. He resisted my torture and my tricks,

  guarding his precious little secret. Even my truth serum failed to work. Unfortunately it’s a hit-or-miss type of drug. You

  babbled on and on about searching for your blood and about

  your immunity to magic, but I couldn’t get you to tell me how you managed to become immune.”

  “Why do you care about my blood?” I asked.

  “It’s very valuable. Gentlemen, please escort Miss Rhea

  Jewelrose back to her cell.”

  In the narrow hallway, only two men could rush me.

  Though they were skilled fighters, I jabbed Erik with my

  last dart and held off Carrl with a f lurry of palm heel strikes until Lamar joined in. Even with my intensive training, the

  two of them overpowered me. Held between them, I struggled

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  to no avail. They anticipated all my self-defense techniques,

  rendering them useless.

  “Someone’s been practicing. Bravo,” Finn said. He picked

  the dart from the f loor. “A sleeping potion?” he asked me,

  but didn’t wait for an answer. “I must say I’m impressed with

  your efforts. When you left Fulgor, I set a watch for you, but

  I expected you to get caught sneaking in.”

  “Councilor Moon knows I’m here.”

  He smiled, but the humor failed to reach his eyes. “No she

  doesn’t. Nor will she. Whatever insurance you left behind

  will be intercepted before it arrives. Didn’t her new assistant seem too qualified?”

  “But her background—”

  “Impeccable.” He cocked his head. “Are you going to co-

  operate or do I need to incapacitate you?” Finn raised the

  dart.

  Horror swept through me at the thought of being uncon-

  scious. “No need for that.”

  “Secure her hands,” Finn ordered.

  On my right, Lamar released his grip. With Finn aiming

  the dart only a few feet away, I couldn’t resist. Lamar pulled

  my arms behind me and nausea bubbled in my throat. He

  snapped the cuffs on my wrists, but he didn’t tighten them.

  Then he slipped a round object into my palm. Trying to keep

  the surprise from showing on my face, I automatically fisted

  it, recognizing the shape.

  Finn stepped to the side as my escorts guided me past. They

  would never be this close again. It was now or never. I held my breath, yanked my arm from the loose cuff and from Lamar’s

  weak grip and f lung the glass ball to the f loor.

  It shattered on impact, releasing a bright f lash and a noxious gas. Fin
n and Carrl coughed and sputtered and were soon

  prone. It was one of Valek’s toys, but it had been too big to

  conceal on my body. I met Lamar’s cocky gaze. Despite the

  gas, he remained standing.

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  Several clues clicked together and I groaned. “I shouldn’t

  have worried,” I said, being careful not to breathe in. “It was a classic damsel-in-distress situation. Who else would save

  me?”

  He grinned. “Better hurry, Opal. I can’t reveal myself. This

  guy is brutal.” He nodded at Finn. “And hard to figure.”

  “Thanks, Janco. Guess you shouldn’t have pissed Valek off

  or you would have gotten Pellow’s—or should I say—Ari’s

  cushy job at Dawnwood.”

  “And be bored? No thanks.” He shooed me away and

  crouched in the fumes, inhaling deep breaths. By the time I

  reached the door, he was unconscious, as well.

  The outer entrance to the wing was quiet, but when I

  slipped into the stairwell, the shouts and pounding of boots

  echoed below. My exit route was blocked. I had spent too

  much time with Ulrick and Finn. Panic rolled through me. I

  allowed the fear to crash and settle before reviewing my op-

  tions. It was time for my backup plan.

  With no way to get past the commotion below, I went up

  instead. I reached the warden’s office without incident. The

  lack of COs meant the warden wasn’t inside. Good. Using my

  lock picks on the four complex locks, I eventually let myself

  into his office and relocked the door.

  Exhausted, I collapsed on his desk chair, wondering how

  long it would take the COs to inform the warden of my escape.

  I lounged back and put my feet on his desk to appear casual.

  My heart, though, didn’t get the whole acting relaxed order

  and insisted on knocking against my breastbone.

  When the distinct sound of a key shoved into a lock reached

  me, my heart jumped. I chanted the word relax in my mind, but I still froze with fear when the warden entered his office.

  His diatribe trailed off as he noticed me. The COs who had

  been enduring a dressing-down gasped.

  For a moment we all just stared at each other. Then the

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  officers moved toward me, splitting up to go around each

  side of the desk.

  “Stop,” the warden ordered.

  They halted mere feet from me. Furious glares promised I

  would pay dearly for my escape.

 

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