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Spy Glass Page 28


  tory in Fulgor or my parents’ house in Booruby. Kade’s cave?

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  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 prob-

  lems 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, intend-

  ing 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 moods.”

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  Maria V. Snyder

  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 Ma-

  gicians 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 suspi-

  cious 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

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  265

  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—”

  “Everything. The magicians are loyal to Master Bain and

  are spying on the Councilors for him.” But Zebb hadn’t in-

  formed Bain of my immunity. He cared about Councilor

  Moon enough to keep his bargain with me. As for the others,

  there would be no way to tell.

  Leif grimaced. “Spying is such an ugly word.”

  “It’s an ugly situation.”

  “I tried to explain it to him, but he threatened to assign me

  as a guard dog for Councilor Greenblade.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Master Bain. Perhaps…”

  “Don’t even go there, Opal. Not many people know the

  whole blood magic switcheroo. Besides he’s too strong for

  anyone to do that to him.”

  I had learned nothing was impossible. Not when it involved

  magic. Ulrick and Tricky were gone, and we had won the

  battle against blood magic. But the war was ongoing.

  The next day, I took Reema shopping. She trailed behind

  me with her gaze on the ground. She hadn’t said anything to

  me since the day at the library, but at least she stopped ignoring me.

  When we reached the crowded market, Reema stepped

  closer to me. I headed in the direction of the clothing and

  fabric stalls, determined to purchase a few items for Reema

  and her brother.

  “Lovely Lady, can I be of assistance?” a young girl asked.

  She wore a comfortable-looking shirt over loose pants and

  cinched with a leather belt. I guessed her age at fourteen.

  Perfect.

  “Yes—”

  Reema grabbed my arm, digging her fingernails into my

  skin. “You promised,” she whispered.

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  Maria V. Snyder

  “I know. Relax.” I turned back to the Helper’s Guild

  girl, who had been staring at us in confusion. “What’s your

  name?”

  “Amberle.” She played with a silver pendant hanging around

  her neck.

  “I’m Opal and this is Reema,” I said, pointing. “Amberle,

  I’d like to know where I can find clothes like yours.”

  She brightened and led us to a small shop near the northern

  edge. “Jane makes practical clothing from durable fabric. Your

  sister will grow out of them before she wears them out.”

  I didn’t bother to correct her as we entered the cozy shop.

  The shopkeeper smiled her thanks at my guide. I paid Amberle

  a copper, but asked her to help Reema choose garments while

  I shopped for Teegan.

  Reema shot me a shrewd look. She understood my real

  reason for having Amberle stay. By the time we were done,

  both Reema and Teegan had two new sets of clothes and I

  found a couple pairs of sturdy travel pants. Both dark brown

  in color. Drab, as Kade’s mother would say, but the color hid

  stains and road dirt.

  Loaded with packages, we returned to the street. Amberle

&nb
sp; f lagged down two more members of the Helper’s Guild. The

  boy and his friend ran over to us. They both wore the same

  pendant as Amberle’s—two hands together with the fingers

  spread out. At first glance the design looked like wings. I asked her about it.

  She touched it reverently. “Master Fisk gifted all his helpers

  with the symbol for the Helper’s Guild. It serves many pur-

  poses. A way for our customers to know we are legitimate, a

  reminder to us of our tasks and as inspiration for us.”

  One of the boys said, “The wings mean if we work hard

  enough, anything is possible.”

  Nice. I handed the boys each a copper and the packages,

  instructing them to deliver them to the Magician’s Keep.

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  267

  Reema’s face whitened. “You’re trusting them? Just like

  that?” she asked me.

  Insulted, Amberle snapped, “That’s my brother and cousin.

  They would never steal from a customer. Master Fisk would

  throw them out of the guild.”

  “Has he thrown many out?” I asked.

  “A few,” she acknowledged with a sad shake of her head.

  Amberle touched her pendant. “Is there anything more you

  need today?”

  “Yes.” I pulled a list from my pocket.

  Reema groaned, then said, “I’ll meet you back at the

  Keep.”

  “No. Some of these things are for Teegan, and I’ll need

  your opinion on them.”

  She eyed me with suspicion. “What for?”

  “He’s going to be enrolled as a student and he’ll need some

  basic items like paper and ink.” Plus I needed a few comforts

  for my apartment.

  Not happy, she grumbled and dragged her feet. I ignored

  her as Amberle guided us to various stalls and stores in the

  market. She answered all my questions about working as a

  guild member, but I could tell she wondered why I was so

  curious. Reema, though, saw right through me. She shot me

  so many poisoned glares, I stopped counting after ten.

  In the rug store, Fisk appeared next to me as I browsed

  through a collection of small remnants.

  “Don’t scare me like that.” I had grabbed my switchblade,

  but hadn’t triggered the blade.

  “Sorry,” he said, but his smirk countered any genuine re-

  morse. “Your ref lexes have improved. Been training?”

  “Always. Once you stop, you lose your edge.” I rubbed my

  shoulder, remembering Sarn’s vise grip as he had tossed me to

  the ground.

  He nodded to Reema, who sat in a corner with her arms

  crossed over her chest, staring at the f loor. “Is that her?”

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  Maria V. Snyder

  “Yes.”

  Amberle hustled over to us in concern. “Lovely Opal, I

  hope I—”

  “Relax,” Fisk said. “I have some business to discuss with

  Opal. Can you take Reema to the bakery?” He handed her

  a silver coin. “Buy her a dozen of those delightful cinnamon

  cookies Barb makes. We’ll meet you there.”

  “Yes,

  sir.”

  As Amberle went to collect Reema, Fisk pulled me outside

  and led me to an empty alley. I scanned the area, remembering

  the last time Fisk had shown me a back door and I had walked

  right into an ambush.

  “Looking for rats?” he asked, smiling.

  “I still owe you for that.”

  “Master Bloodgood already paid me.”

  I stared at him.

  “It was business, Opal. Nothing personal.”

  “Yeah, right.” I let him fidget for a moment. “Any

  news?”

  “Not on your boy, Finn. He hasn’t come through here and

  no one has heard of him.”

  Not like it was a big surprise. Yet disappointment still

  welled. He waited and I realized he had more information.

  “Well?”

  “I found out more on those pearls.”

  “Good or bad?”

  “Depends. If you’re looking to buy a pearl, the prices have

  dropped significantly. There are so many available, it’s a buyer’s market. However, if you make your living harvesting oysters

  for pearls, you’re out of luck. And income.”

  “Have farms closed?”

  “The smaller ones have, but a couple of the bigger ones are

  in trouble.”

  Interesting discussion, but I wondered why Fisk cared, so

  I asked him. “And don’t tell me it smells fishy.”

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  269

  I surprised a laugh from him, but he soon returned to being

  serious. “I think someone is messing with the market on pur-

  pose, driving those others out of business. Once the supply

  is controlled by one farm, then they can withhold pearls and

  drive the prices up as high as they want.”

  “Again, why do you care?”

  He jabbed a hand toward the market. “They’re messing

  with my customers. Already a few jewelry stores are putting pearls aside, waiting for the price increase.”

  “How can I help?”

  “Can you talk to Councilor Bloodgood? The oyster farms

  that are closing are along the Bloodgood coast. Maybe he can

  do something about it.”

  Remembering Bain’s comments, I said, “I’m not sure the

  Councilor would agree to talk to me. Have you tried Master

  Bloodgood?”

  “Yes. He has to remain impartial unless there is evidence

  of foul play.”

  “I’ll try to see the Councilor. Do you have any idea which

  farm is harvesting all those pearls?” I asked.

  “I just got a name today. They must be located close to the

  Jewelrose border. They call themselves—”

  “The Bloodrose Clan.”

  “How did you know? ” Fisk asked.

  “When you said they lived close to the Jewelrose border,

  I guessed. I’ve been to their compound.” A stark, dreary

  place.

  “Why?”

  I told him about Quinn.

  “You saved another magician from f lameout?”

  “No. He managed to gain control of his powers, but Quinn

  wanted to stay so we left him there. We didn’t have much

  choice. They weren’t doing anything illegal.”

  Fisk considered. “Where is their compound?”

  On the tip of the Lion’s Claw Peninsula, but I wouldn’t tell

  Fisk. He tried to hide his interest behind a casual question.

  “Do

  not send any of your guild members to spy on them.

  Don’t even pretend you weren’t thinking it.” I waggled a finger at him.

  He conceded defeat. “Your observation skills have im-

  proved, as well. Who’s been teaching you?”

  “A friend,” I hedged. I wasn’t ready to tell him about Valek’s

  training.

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  271

  “What about these Bloodroses?”

  What indeed? “I’ll look into it.” I expected a dubious look

  or for him to question me on how I planned to investigate.

  Instead, he nodded. “Good. Let me know what you find

  out.”

  I smiled at his bossy tone. “Do I get a necklace, then?”

  “You like those?”

  “They’re

  pretty.�


  “Unfortunately, they were necessary. This other group is

  becoming a problem.”

  “Do you need help with them?”

  “No. This is my world, Opal. I need to deal with them.”

  I almost reached out to him. He should be dealing with

  the problems of being a teenager—girls, raging hormones,

  schoolwork—not rival gangs and a monopoly grab. “Fisk,

  when you have a few free days, find me. I have another job

  for you.”

  “Sounds intriguing. But it might be a couple months before

  I have the time.”

  “That’s

  fine.”

  We exited the alley. As we searched for Reema and Am-

  berle, Fisk glanced sideways at me. “You’re not going to tell

  me anything about this new job, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “It’s not payback for that ambush I organized, is it?”

  “Nope. Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it.” I suppressed a grin.

  I planned to send him on a vacation. Probably the first for

  him.

  We found the girls sitting at one of the tables outside Barb’s

  Bakery. Crumbs littered the table and cinnamon sugar clung

  to Reema’s chin. Packages surrounded them. When the girls

  spotted us, Reema jumped to her feet and shot Fisk a terrified

  glare. Keeping his distance, Fisk waved goodbye.

  After arranging for the packages to be delivered to the Keep

  and to my apartment, I paid Amberle for her help. Reema

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  Maria V. Snyder

  kept pace with me as we followed the procession of boys to

  my apartment building. Once there, I gave each boy a copper.

  They thanked me and hurried off. As they raced down the

  street, calls of “you’re it” and “am not” echoed. I smiled, but Reema frowned at them.

  She helped me carry the bags up to the third f loor. I un-

  packed and put my purchases away as Reema walked around

  the rooms. When I finished, I found her standing by the

  window in my bedroom. Her hair shone in the sunlight. I

  joined her. The Keep’s tall towers dominated the view.

  She turned and gestured to the room. “Are you rich?”

  Reviewing our shopping trip, I shouldn’t be surprised by

  her question. I debated. Naked truth versus it’s-none-of-your-

  business. “Yep.” I braced for her follow-up question and she

  didn’t disappoint me.

  “Then why can’t I stay with you? You can afford it.”

  I knelt down so I was eye level. “I may have to leave sud-

  denly for a season or more at a time.”