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Understanding lit his face followed by chagrin. “Unfortu-
nately our host didn’t trust me with his plans. He hadn’t since I left him behind in Thunder Valley. Remember?”
“I’ll never forget.” I had thought Tricky, Devlen and the
others had been safely locked away when Devlen ambushed
me. I rubbed my thighs. Scars from his sword still marked
them and my upper arms.
Sadness pulled the corners of his mouth down. “And when
he offered me some of your money and I declined, he became
even more suspicious of my intentions.” He cupped his chin
in his hand as he visited the past.
He would figure it out soon. That was the problem with
asking him about my blood. Devlen claimed to be on my side.
This would be a test.
Dropping his hand, he said with a sudden eagerness,
“That is why you’re in Fulgor. If there’s money left over, you
could—”
“Don’t say it.” The possibility of me regaining my magic
was slim to none. No sense getting my hopes up for a tiny
chance. “Besides, I may not have any legal right to it, and what if I start desiring more? That’s too high a price to pay.” Using my blood to gain power could have the same inf luence over
me as blood magic.
“It’s a shame you don’t have any powerful friends to help
you. One that has both magical and political inf luence would
be ideal in this situation,” he teased.
I slapped the table. Yelena! She could monitor me and ensure
I didn’t become addicted by pulling the blood from me if I
did. But then I sobered. Since it was my own blood, would
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the magic work the same? Would I have to inject it into my
skin or into my bloodstream?
Devlen rested his warm hand on my fingers. “See? I’m
helping you. Maybe you won’t wait so long to visit me again.”
He squeezed.
Fire sizzled up my arm. I jerked my hand away in sur-
prise.
“Sorry,” he said, as Pellow stepped forward and yanked
Devlen from the chair.
“Time’s up, Dev. You know the rules,” Pellow said. “No
touching.”
Devlen resisted for a moment, looking at me in pain. “I
thought you were no longer afraid of me.”
I shot to my feet. “I’m not. I…”
Pellow shoved Devlen through the door. The CO glanced
at me over his shoulder. “The rules are to protect you,
ma’am.”
The door slammed shut. My thoughts whirled as the skin
on my right hand tingled. What the hell was that? He prob ably
just hit one of those pressure points by accident. I dismissed
it.
Since Devlen had no knowledge about the location of my
blood, I had, at least, accomplished my task. No need to visit
him anymore. I knocked on the other entrance and my CO
escorted me from the prison.
On the way home, I felt out of sorts and not happy with
the way our session had ended. I wanted to reassure him. Me?
Reassure Devlen? I almost laughed out loud, except another
part of my brain planned to visit him again.
Unfortunately, time was a precious commodity. I kept my
daily routine so I didn’t draw suspicion, but Valek kept me
busy every spare minute.
He taught me about balance. We performed endless num-
bers of hand-eye coordination drills. He hounded me about
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my ref lexes until I reacted to the slightest movement. I learned how to use a blowpipe, how to pick complex locks and how
to climb walls, repeating exercises to a point where they ran
together and my muscles shook with fatigue.
I discovered this type of clandestine operation involved
the tools of an assassin. Poisons, Curare and drugs like the
one Finn had used on me. The goal was to enter and leave
without being seen. Too bulky and heavy, my sais would be
left behind. Instead, I practiced my aim with throwing knives
and darts. Valek drilled me in knife fighting. I added a dagger to my arsenal, since a longer blade would be impractical.
We discussed strategy and tactics until my throat burned.
Then he led me into the streets where I learned the language of the lie—the slight glance down, the tension in the lips, the tiny shrug of the shoulders, the hand that tapped nervously against
a belt. Body language, verbal cues, and clues—I struggled to
keep from laughing when the lies were so clear. Everything
I learned to spot, I learned to hide.
During our early forays into secured buildings, my nerves
buzzed with excitement and fear. My heart performed ac-
robatics in my chest. But repetition was the key. Eventu-
ally, my body stilled and I could think and strategize without
panicking.
A few skills were harder to perfect, and after a particular
frustrating session trying to lie convincingly to him, I asked
Valek why he bothered with me.
“Don’t you miss Yelena? Don’t you have better things to
do?” I asked. I could think of a million other tasks I’d rather do. First I would find Kade. It had been four weeks, and he
hadn’t replied or arrived in Fulgor. I worried about him and
about his reaction to my message.
“Of course I miss her. She’s in Ixia with the Commander
while I’m here,” Valek said, leaning his “stick” against the
wall.
He used the wretched pointer to tap me at the location my
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body or my face revealed a lie. The middle of my forehead
ached from multiple pokes.
“Isn’t being away all the time hard on your relationship?”
I asked.
“No amount of time or distance can break us apart. Besides,
Yelena would kill me if I allow you to go on a mission you
aren’t prepared for.”
“Two seasons isn’t much time.” I sighed. Our goal was
to be done with this business before Mara and Leif ’s wed-
ding at the end of the warm season. And the constant worry
about something happening to my blood before I could find
it rubbed on my nerves.
“You’re making excellent progress. And I must confess I
have ulterior motives.”
“Really?”
“I’m hoping all this training will be put to good use.”
I smiled. “As in, I’ll enjoy sneaking around and playing spy
so much that I’ll agree to work for you?”
“Exactly. Now tell me you love me.” He picked up his
stick.
“I do love you, Valek.”
He gawked. “You do?”
I laughed. “Of course, you’re practically family.”
He
relaxed.
“But that also means I hate you, too. It’s part of being in a
family.”
“I
see.”
“And right now, I’m leaning more toward hate. Because if
you poke me with that horrid stick one more time, I’m going
to take it from you and whack you over the head with it.”
He slid his feet into a fighting stance. “You can try.”
“Gotcha!” I smirked. “You believed me!”
I started to protest, but clamped my lips together. Needing
a break, I mulled over the possibilities. I could visit Devlen, or
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have dinner at the Pig Pen with Nic and Eve, or take Quartz
for a long ride. Interesting how I listed Devlen first.
“I’m glad you came back,” Devlen said.
We sat in the same visiting room with the table and chairs,
but this time Pellow cuffed Devlen’s wrists to the chair’s
arms.
“I wanted to be here sooner,” I said.
He brightened. “You did?”
“I wanted to explain—”
“No need. I understand. After all the pain I caused you…”
He grimaced. “I still haven’t done enough for you. I don’t
know if I’ll ever do enough to compensate for my actions.”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand. You surprised
me, that’s all.” Which was true. I didn’t need to mention the
fire.
“I’ve been thinking of ways to help you with your…
money problem.” He turned to Pellow. “Can you give us a
minute?”
The CO’s face creased into a mixture of amusement and
shock.
“I broke up that fight yesterday and saved Sewer’s job,”
Devlen said to him. “You can let me have one minute.”
Pellow hesitated a moment more, then nodded. He said
to me, “Yell if you need me. I’ll be on the other side of this
door.” Then he left.
“Sewer?” I asked.
“One of the officers. He smells awful.” Devlen lowered his
voice. “That’s not important. Finding your blood is. Here’s my
idea. I lose points every time I break the rules, and if I become a problem, I’ll be sent to Wirral. Once there, I can—”
“No.” He wanted to be transferred so he could talk to
Tricky and Ulrick. “No. Do not become a problem.” Why
not? I had complained over his light sentence.
“But—”
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“They didn’t trust you on the outside, why would they talk
to you in prison? Besides, I have another way.” I could see he
wasn’t convinced, but the thought of him inside Wirral upset
me. “Promise me you won’t cause trouble.”
“Why not? I can help you. I want to help you.”
“I need you here.” I almost smiled at his puzzlement.
“Why?”
Good question. “Because I can’t visit my Story Weaver if
he’s incarcerated in Wirral.”
His confusion turned into utter astonishment. I couldn’t
erase my statement, and I suspected I had gotten myself in
deeper with Devlen. I hoped I wouldn’t regret it.
Pellow entered, announcing the end of our session. He
unlocked Devlen’s wrists from the chair.
“Promise me,” I said before they could leave.
Devlen grinned. “You have my word.”
His word. When had I started accepting it? Perhaps all those
lessons in body language had given me more of an insight.
Or not. If I could learn how to lie with conviction, Devlen
could, as well. I stopped second-guessing myself. Nothing but
a headache to be gained for it.
After I left the prison, I headed toward Justamere Farm.
Located on the western edge of Fulgor, the boarding and
training stable was within walking distance of my new home.
Quartz greeted me at the pasture’s fence. A shy Thoroughbred
stood next to her. She had made a friend.
I loved the stable. Clean, neat and in good repair, the build-
ings housed a number of horses and an indoor training ring
as well as one outside. With another hour of sunlight left in
the day, I decided to saddle Quartz and do a few practice
jumps.
If Devlen was my Story Weaver, then Quartz was my best
friend. Spending time with her, I let all my worries and frus-
trations melt away. A creature of power and energy, she f lew
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over the hurdles with ease. I needed to imagine dealing with
my own problems the same way. Stay on task, keep a steady
pace, launch at just the right time and land without upsetting
your stride.
By the time I met up with Nic and Eve at the Pig Pen, the
evening rush had subsided.
“’Bout time,” Nic complained.
Eve plucked a horse hair from my cloak. “She’s been hang-
ing out at the stables.” She peered at me. “What else have you
been doing at nights?”
“Breaking and entering, petty theft, shoplifting and drunk
and disorderly until I pass out,” I said. All true except the
D and D, and I returned everything I stole.
“Funny,” Nic said, but he didn’t smile. “Maybe we should
switch our schedule and start working nights. Sounds like
quite the party.”
“I thought you did work nights,” I said.
“Not anymore.” Eve shook her head. “You’ve been dis-
tracted during our morning training. Nic gave you three good
openings to slam him yesterday, but you missed them. Ob-
viously you’re not paying as close attention at work as well.
Councilor Moon has her own guards now. All trustworthy and
with excellent records.” She swigged her ale. “We’re assuming
your attention is focused on something more important. Your
side project?”
“Sorry I’ve been distracted.”
“Should we be worried?” Nic asked.
“No. Everything’s progressing well.” I waved Ian over and
ordered a meal. “What are you doing now? Patrolling the
streets?”
“Sometimes,” Eve said. “Our unit tends to fill in where
needed, depending on what’s going on.”
“Today we got to watch prisoners build a wall at HQ. Here’s
to another thrilling day on the job.” Nic raised his mug as
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if making a toast. “One inmate actually tried to talk to me.
Gasp.”
Despite the sarcasm, I sensed another current under Nic’s
words. “What did he want?”
“He asked about you, Opal. Seemed concern about your
welfare.”
Devlen. “That’s was nice,” I tried.
“Yeah, downright decent of him. Something you don’t see
too often in convicted criminals.”
“Okay, Nic. Spit it out,” I ordered. “What’s really the
matter?”
He bunched up his napkin and tossed it onto the bar. “I
don’t like being kept out of the loop, and when I meet a
prisoner who knows more than I do about someone who is
supposed to be my friend, I get a little testy.”
“He does know more about me than you, Nic. Probably
more than anyone except Kade.” And Valek. There was no
hiding with Valek. Yelena may be the Soulfinder, but he was
the Soulseer. “That prisoner was one of the men at Hubal.”
Nic looked surprised. “What’s he doing in Dawnwood? He
should be at Wirral.”
“It’s complicated, but he redeemed himself in the end.”
“Is that wh
y you’ve been visiting him?” Eve asked.
Alarmed, I asked, “Have you been following me?”
“No need.” A half smile played on her lips.
I groaned. “The gossip network strikes again. I forgot you
have friends who work at Dawnwood.”
“And it upsets them when the Councilor’s assistant starts
visiting a prisoner,” Nic added. “I suggest you stop.”
An unpalatable thought. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Eve seemed curious, but Nic glared.
“He’s the only one who understands how it feels to suddenly
be without magic.”
“We understand. We don’t have magic—”
“And you never did. It’s different, Nic.” I sighed. He didn’t
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quite comprehend. “Look at it this way. You’re a strong man.
You can lift heavy things and swing that hunk of metal you
call a sword with one hand. What if I took away your strength?
You can’t carry a barrel of water on your shoulder or draw
your sword to defend yourself. Who would you identify with?
Your brother, who can still heft a casket of wine, or Eve, who
never could, or me, who also lost it?”
The lines on his face smoothed. “All right. I see your
point. I still feel like I’m out of the loop. Like one of those neighbors.”
My turn to be confused. “What neighbors?”
“The people who live next to a crazy psychopath and tell
us, ‘He was such a good neighbor. Quiet. No trouble,’” Nic
said in a high squeaky voice.
“How about if I promise to tell you about the bodies buried
under my factory before security digs them up? Will that make you happy?”
“Ecstatic,” he deadpanned.
Eve changed the subject and we were soon laughing and
joking. As the evening drew to a close, they walked me
home.
“Are you watching prisoners tomorrow?” I asked.
“Sort of,” Eve said. “We’re escorting a trio from the Green-
blade Clan from our holding cells to Wirral.”
“Best part is seeing them gape in horror when they realize
what their future holds,” Nic said. “Some break down and
bawl.”
“I’d cry, too,” I said as a chill zipped along my spine.
“Don’t feel too bad about those three. They discovered a
way to extract the venom from Greenblade bees. They sold
the poison to others. At first, the murders appeared to be ac-
cidents. Poor man, stung by a lethal bee.” He tsked.
“How did they catch them?” I asked.
“Greed and stupidity,” Eve said. “They sold the venom to