Spy Glass g-3 Page 23

  The memory of those dark days surged through my body and transported me back in time. I saw Tula, not Teegan, lying on the bed, looking small and brittle. My body ached to hold my sister again. If I had been as smart and savvy as Reema, I wouldn’t have let her murderer into the room. Wouldn’t have gone with his accomplice, trusting them to keep their word that Tula would live if I cooperated.

  “What happened?” Reema asked.

  Dragging myself to the present, I said to her, “I crawled into bed with my sister and stayed by her side. I helped Yelena coax her back to consciousness.” The girl didn’t need to know the sad ending to the tale. Instead I let the joy of having Tula awake and healthy shine on my face. I would always treasure those few days we had together.

  “If I stay here, will you promise me one thing?” she asked.

  “If I can, I will.”

  She nodded. “If I’m captured by the Citadel’s guards, promise me you won’t let them sell me to the Helper’s Guild.”

  19

  I BLINKED AT REEMA FOR A MOMENT. HAD SHE REALLY uttered the words “sell me” and “Helper’s Guild” in the same breath? I remembered Fisk’s comments about vicious rumors, but had taken them in stride, never imagining the actual reality of them. She scrutinized my body language and balanced on the balls of her feet. Convinced of the danger, she would run away if I didn’t promise to protect her.

  Now wasn’t the time to assure her about the true nature of the Guild. “No one will sell you to the Helper’s Guild. I promise,” I said.

  With the slightest softening in her posture, she stuck out her hand. I shook it and she relaxed.

  “What’s next?” she asked.

  “A bath.” When her stubborn chin jutted, I added, “The bathhouse is empty right now. Unless you want to wait until morning and be there with all the students? Your choice.”

  “No it isn’t. Don’t play those games with me. You be straight with me and I’ll be straight with you. Deal?”

  She didn’t sound like an eight-year-old. “No sugar-coating?”

  “None.”

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “To me, yes. You’re either a child genius or older than you look.”

  She flashed me a grin. “I’m both.”

  “Humor’s okay then?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. So naked truth it is. Do we need another handshake or maybe a blood oath just for something different?” I asked.

  Another grin. “I’m ten, and my mother taught me to listen past people’s words and hear their true intentions.”

  “Smart lady. Did she teach you to play fair?” One of my pet peeves, I believed schooling kids to play fair failed to prepare them for adulthood.

  “No.” Reema tucked her stuffed dog under Teegan’s covers. He rolled over and curled his arm around the toy. “Let’s go.”

  “Don’t you want to know my name?”

  “I know it. That healer called you Opal when we arrived.”

  Smart girl. The bathhouse was straight north of the infirmary. As I guided Reema, I played tour guide as we passed the dining hall and formal garden located in the center of the Keep’s complex. The two apprentice wings curved around the sides of the garden like an incomplete ring around a bull’s eye. Torches lit the empty pathways. No pools or webs of magic touched me. A nice respite. I hurried Reema past the Fire Memorial. I didn’t have the energy to explain its significance to her.

  As predicted, we had the bathhouse to ourselves. I helped her wash her hair. After multiple scrubbings, her true color emerged—white blond. Beautiful.

  Reema frowned at the long coils.

  “It’s lovely,” I said, combing out the knots before it could dry.

  “It stands out. Not a good thing where I live.” She scanned the elegant bathhouse.

  The arched walls and high ceiling had been decorated with colorful mosaics. Blue-green tiles lined the oval pool. In the corner, the washing area had metal spigots protruding from the walls above head level. The water would rain from one of them when the lever hanging next to it was pulled. A rack nearby held piles of clean towels. A mirror image of this half of the bathhouse resided on the other side for the males.

  “I guess around here, you’d want to stand out,” Reema said. “You’d want to be the best and brightest at the Magician’s Keep. Right?”

  “The magicians and teachers don’t compare you to other students, but everyone knows who is strong and who has limited power. By the end of the first season of the first year, the pecking order has been established.”

  “It must have been fun being at the top.”

  I paused. Why would she…? Oh. She had watched me enter a building no one else could, not even a Master Magician. Naked truth sounded refreshing, but might be harder than I first thought.

  “Actually, I was at the very bottom,” I said.

  She turned. “Really?”

  I considered. “It’s a long complicated story.”

  “Tell me…please.”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Stories help me sleep at night.”

  I imagined her life. Living in a condemned warehouse, no parents, no food unless she found, stole or begged for some, she had to constantly worry about predators and the Citadel’s guards. Stories would be an escape from her harsh reality.

  My future life may be uncertain, but I would not let Reema go back to that horror. I vowed I would find her a home.

  I told her about my misadventures as a first-year student. Her light laugh spurred me to dig deeper for the humorous moments. Interesting, I hadn’t consider them funny at the time. I stopped once we arrived back at the infirmary. She jumped into the extra bed in Teegan’s room without reclaiming her stuffed dog. I guessed she felt safe.

  Pulling the covers up to her chin, I promised to return in the morning. I turned the lantern down to the lowest setting and said good-night.

  “Good night, Fire Lady,” she said.

  I paused in the threshold. I’d been called various names before, but that was a new one. Unable to squelch my curiosity, I asked, “How do you know Teegan was referring to me?”

  “I just do.”

  “Why fire?”

  “You’ll have to ask my brother.”

  I’d spent time with Reema over the course of the next couple days. She mainly stayed by Teegan’s side, but she needed fresh air and Hayes needed information about her and Teegan. I’d shown her more of the Keep’s complex, hoping to deepen our connection. Unfortunately, she had refused to share any more details. At least her brother’s strength increased every day.

  When I arrived on the third morning, Reema sat cross-legged on her bed. She read aloud from a book resting on her lap. I listened for a while, glad she could read. It would give her an advantage on the streets.

  Finding her a home was proving to be impossible. My visit to Child Services had been a frustrating and depressing experience. By the time I reached the correct agent, she took Reema’s file, set it atop a three-foot-high pile and instructed me in a dead voice to deliver the child to care facility number two. Knowing Reema, she would be there for five minutes before escaping. When I asked if Reema had a chance to be adopted, the woman looked at me as if I was an idiot.

  I also struck out with my other forays into the Citadel. Either Fisk avoided me or he had legitimate business. Hard to tell.

  “Where to today?” Reema asked.

  Her question snapped me back. She closed the book and set it reverently on the night table. Hayes had lent her the story to help her pass the time. Her actions gave me an idea.

  “I’m going to show you the Keep’s library.” I led her to the student barracks.

  The long building was curved like the apprentice wing, but it was three times its size. Located on the west side of the Keep, it housed the students who were in their first three years of study. The library filled half of the ground floor. The Keep’s curricul
um concentrated on learning from textbooks those years, while the seniors in their fourth year began a more hands-on type of learning.

  Seniors shared the other long building that mirrored the barracks with the Keep’s employees. The senior quarters were broken into rooms shared by five students. Much better than the rows and rows of bunk beds that lined the floors of the barracks.

  When we entered the library, a few students glanced up from their books, but they soon returned to their studies. Tables and chairs occupied the space between the bookshelves. I waded through puddles of magic, wishing I’d remembered morning was a popular time.

  Reema stayed by my side. Her lower lip hung open as she absorbed the sheer number of books. Rows and rows filled the space, seemingly unending. I moved instinctively, searching for the history section, but not concentrating too hard.

  The stronger the desire to find a certain book the more it guaranteed a failed effort. It was an odd quirk of the library, as if over the years magic had soaked into the tomes, giving them an essence. A more relaxed, half-distracted search worked better. However, if a book didn’t want to be found, you were out of luck.

  I discovered the List of Clans tucked between History of the Cloud Mist Clan and Sandseed Soil Study. Reema wanted to explore, but I carried my find to an empty table. She followed, dragging her steps with reluctance and huddled on a chair.

  Opening the book to the table of contents, I glanced at her. She had shoved her hands under her legs, and she stared at the hem of her shirt.

  “Your mother told you no one would know your clan’s name. Right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Maybe it’s listed in here?”

  She wouldn’t look at me. I slid the book to her. Frowning, she scanned the page. I studied her, watching for a reaction to one of the names. After a few minutes, she relaxed.

  “It’s not here,” she said. “Why is it so important to know my clan’s name?”

  I debated, but settled on the truth. “I’ve run out of options. I would like to find you a home, preferably with a relative.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “Reema, once Teegan is healthy he’ll be enrolled as a student at the Keep. You’ll be on your own, and I can’t allow that.”

  She straightened. “You can’t stop me.”

  “I know. That’s why I need to find you a place where you’ll be happy and safe.”

  “That’s easy.”

  “It is?” Had I missed something?

  “Sure. I’ll stay with you.”

  I walked right into that one. A hard knot gripped my throat.

  She noticed and shut down. All emotion fled and she returned to street survival mode. “Forget it.”

  “Reema, I—”

  “Are we done here? I should get back to Teegan.” She slid off the chair and headed for the door.

  I followed and tried to explain that taking care of her would be impossible. That I might be called away at any time. But she ignored me or she pretended to. Either way, I lost her.

  “What do you think?” Fisk asked.

  I walked around the two-bedroom, furnished apartment in amazement. It was the first day of the heating season and sunlight poured in from huge windows occupying two of the four walls. “It’s incredible.” When Fisk had led me to the run-down factory, I had been dubious, but the inside had been renovated and broken into several apartments. “How did you find it?”

  He puffed his chest out. “All in a day’s work.”

  I shot him a look.

  “What? I’m not going to reveal my secrets. I’d be out of a job.”

  “It’s a clever location,” I said. The building was on the eastern edge of the business district in the north section of the Citadel.

  “And not too many people know what’s hidden here. Perfect for security. Plus I thought you’d like to be close to the Keep and Council Hall.”

  The apartment was on the third floor, which was the same distance from the roof and from the ground, making it harder for “spiders” like Valek to climb. “You’re right. I’ll take it.”

  Before Fisk could go and negotiate a fair price, I stopped him. “What about my other request?”

  “Nothing, yet.”

  I tried not to show my disappointment as we left the building. I shouldn’t complain; it was better than Reema’s future. Unless I found her a home.

  “Anything else?” Fisk asked.

  “Yes. I’ve heard a rumor about the Citadel’s guards selling homeless children to your guild. What’s going on?”

  His pleasant demeanor dropped as anger flared. “And you believe it.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Of course not—”

  “Then why mention it?”

  I told him about Reema. His anger transferred from me to those who had scared her.

  “I’ve been dealing with these nasty rumors. The Helper’s Guild is a very profitable business. After I pay my members a small allowance, I use the rest of the money to buy housing, clothes and food for them. But there is another group trying to form their own guild so they can keep the profits.”

  “And the children?”

  “You saw where Teegan and Reema were living.”

  For an instant Fisk let his exhaustion show as he drooped. The responsibility of caring for his guild weighed on his shoulders and lined his face. I had to remind myself he was only sixteen.

  “How can I help?” I asked.

  “You can’t…”

  I waited.

  He brightened just a bit. “You can convince Reema we’re the good guys.”

  If she’d let me.

  I moved my meager possessions to the apartment as soon as the deed was signed. Even though I spent most of my day at the Keep, it was a relief to leave at night. Teegan’s heath improved and my concern about Reema grew. I kept walking into my extra bedroom and just standing there, straining to find a solution or a way to help the girl. Life in the guild was better than on the streets, but life in a home would be ideal.

  But my apartment wasn’t a home for me, nor was my factory in Fulgor or my parents’ house in Booruby. Kade’s cave? I didn’t know! If my blood was recovered and if I regained my powers, everything might change.

  Leif and Mara returned from their vacation all glowing and silly. Yelena also stopped by, but she picked up Kiki and was gone before I could talk to her.

  “If you do that one more time, I’m leaving,” I said to Mara. I sat in their small kitchen, sipping tea. They had decided to stay in Leif’s quarters at the Keep for now, but when I had told them about my new place, they planned to talk to Fisk.

  “Do what?” Mara asked, attempting to appear innocent.

  “Get all kissy and lovey-dovey. Can you at least stop pawing each other while I’m here?”

  “Jealous, Opal?” Leif asked.

  “No. Nauseous.”

  They broke apart and sat on opposite sides of the table. “Happy?” Mara asked, but she still made moon eyes at Leif.

  Newlyweds! Not fit for company for… Well, longer than the fourteen days it had been since their wedding.

  “So what’s going on around here?” Leif asked.

  I filled him in about Teegan, Reema and the First Magician’s decision not to inform the Council about my immunity.

  “Bain’s been under a ton of pressure lately. With Zitora’s retirement and no other students showing potential to reach master level, he’s been grumpy.”

  Leif was kind enough not to mention how both those problems were my fault. Pazia Cloud Mist had been the first student magician in ten years to be strong enough to take the master-level test. Until I had siphoned most of her magic, during an experiment. She had attacked me with all her power, intending to harm me, but I should have had more control over my response.

  “Opal.” Leif swatted my arm. “Snap out of it. Zitora and Pazia made their own choices—whether good or bad. You didn’t cause Bain’s problems.”

  “I thought you couldn’t sniff my m
oods.”

  Leif’s unusual magic allowed him to smell emotions, read people’s intentions and determine their prior deeds. Handy for interrogating criminals.

  “I don’t need magic to read your mind. You get this little crinkle between your eyebrows when you’re feeling guilty.”

  I rubbed the spot with two fingers, smoothing the skin. Even if I claimed I was among family, Valek would still fuss at my betraying body language. “I don’t know how Bain plans to keep my immunity a secret. If I hang out here long enough, any magician interacting with me would discover it.”

  “Unless you claim you have a null shield woven into your clothes for protection. No, that won’t work.” Leif tugged his shirt down, looking guilty.

  “Does the Council know how malleable null shields are?” A sick feeling roiled.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He fiddled with the fabric of his sleeve. “The Master Magicians decided to keep it quiet for now. Plus the Councilors are protected by magicians who can create null shields when needed.”

  “But wearing shielded clothes would give them protection all the time.”

  “Yes, but…” Leif’s gaze swept the room, avoiding mine.

  “Eventually another magician is going to discover how to graft shields onto fabric and walls. You know it’s inevitable, and once the Council finds out, they’ll be upset.” An under-statement. They would be livid, feel betrayed and be suspicious of Bain and Irys, but if all the Councilors were shielded by Bain’s magicians… I followed the logic. Those magicians reported everything to Bain. “Master Bloodgood’s wading in dangerous waters.”

  Leif rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. He says it’s temporary. Knowing how blood magic can switch people’s souls, Bain is worried another person might try to take over one of the Councilors’ bodies. If they’re shielded all the time, he can’t tell if that has happened. With a magician guarding each Councilor, he knows—”