(Glass #3) Spy Glass Page 6

  “What? Am I supposed to hand you the information?” His tone implied yes would be the wrong answer.

  “Er…” Wonderful retort. Opal, the superspy.

  “Am I supposed to stop everything I’m doing to give you classified documents?”

  “Um…”

  “Go now.”

  I used to believe a powerful Daviian Warper addicted to blood magic was the scariest person I’d ever encounter. Not anymore.

  Outside and several blocks away from Wirral, I sucked in huge gulps of air, trying to expel the fetid taint of the prison inside me. My gasps turned to hiccupy giggles as I imagined going through with my original plan to work undercover as a correctional officer. Light-headed and unable to draw in a decent breath, I reached for a lantern post as my head spun. I missed and toppled to the ground. Dazed, I waited for the spinning to stop.

  “Hey! Are you all right?” a man asked. He peered down at me in concern.

  “Fine. Fine.” I waved him away. “Just lost my balance.”

  He knelt next to me. “It’s brutal the first time.”

  I squinted at him. “What?”

  “You were in Wirral. I thought you looked…shaky.”

  Recognizing the man from the warden’s office, I pushed to my elbow in alarm. “You followed me?”

  “Of course. Your face was whiter than a full moon, your eyes were bugged out and you wobbled when you left. What was I suppose to do? Let you fall and crack your head open?”

  “No…sorry. I’m just… That was horrible!”

  “It’s a punishment. It’s not supposed to be fun.”

  “But it seemed…cruel.”

  “What did?”

  Was he teasing me? A cool humor lurked behind his grayish-green eyes, but it didn’t spoil his genuine interest in my answer.

  “The smells, the shrieks, the darkness, the…”

  He waited. When I didn’t continue, he said, “Did you actually see anything cruel?”

  “No, but—”

  “Your imagination filled in the details.”

  I wanted to correct him. Not my imagination, but my experience.

  “I won’t lie to you. It is bad, but not cruel. They’re fed, given water, exercise and fresh air. No one is tortured or harmed by the COs. And considering what most of them have done to others, it’s more than they deserve. Here…”

  He hooked his arm under mine and helped me to my feet. I swayed, but regained my balance, trying to remember the last time I ate.

  “What are COs?”

  “Short for correctional officers. We abbreviate everything.”

  The man still held my arm.

  “Thanks for the help,” I said, trying and failing to subtly break his strong grip. “I’ll be fine.”

  He gave me a skeptical look. “You need a drink, and I know just the place.”

  Instinctively, I gauged his skill level. About six inches taller than me, he had a lean, wiry build. Buzzed black hair showed a few scars. I guessed he was five or six years older than me. Long, thin face that could easily get lost in a crowd, but those hazel eyes… Amusement filled them, and a slanted smile transformed him from common to unusual.

  “Think you can take me?” he asked.

  I laughed. “That obvious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you blame me? I don’t know you, and shouldn’t you be returning to work?” I pointed in the direction of the prison.

  “My name is Finn. I’m off duty. And I’m wearing a lieutenant’s uniform and not a prison jumpsuit. Shouldn’t that be enough to trust me?”

  “No.”

  He laughed. Letting go of my arm, he stepped away with his hands up by his shoulders. “Smart lady. No wonder the Councilor hired you as her assistant.”

  Alarm flashed through me. “How do you know?”

  “COs like to gossip. Besides, I was consulted before they’d let you in.”

  “But I had a message.”

  “Doesn’t matter. No one enters. No visitors. No messengers. No deliverymen. Not even Councilor Moon can visit her sister, and for their safety, the Councilor and First Advisor are not even allowed inside. Authorized personnel only.”

  “And you authorized me?”

  “Yes. Now are you going to stand here all day, or are you going to let me buy you a drink?”

  Finn must have quite a bit of power within the prison. I chose the drink. He led me to a tavern a few blocks away. Called the Spotted Dog, the utilitarian decor lacked warmth, but the patrons didn’t seem to mind. They generated their own coziness, acting like one big family. It made sense since almost all of them worked at the prison.

  My arrival with Finn sent a ripple through the tavern. The hum of conversation died for an awkward moment before spiking back to life. In that time, appraising glances, surprised stares and hostile glares were aimed at me. A few women mingled with the men. A couple of the women wore uniforms, but the rest were in civilian garb. Finn and I sat at a table away from the general crowd.

  If this group learned to trust me, then I’d hit the jackpot. Finn had said the COs liked to gossip, and since I had no idea whether the warden would deliver the names to Faith or not, perhaps I would overhear information about the SMU or discover the names of the elite officers. Big if.

  Would I be welcomed here without Finn? Doubtful. How much did Finn know about me? Did he know about Kade? And was I really considering using him to obtain the information I needed? How different was this from the story I spun for Faith? I was sure these questions didn’t bother Valek and his corp. Perhaps I should wait for the warden.

  But the thought of waiting any longer sent nervous darts of fear through my body. The desire to find my blood before…What? My imagination created all kinds of scenarios. Spilled. Used. Lost. Hidden. Far better to be proactive than not.

  “How long have you been working at the prison?” I asked Finn.

  He swallowed a gulp of ale and flashed me his slanted smile. “Feels like forever. Actually, I recently transferred in from a Bloodgood prison.”

  “Do you plan to stay?”

  “This move was a promotion and I’m hoping to work my way to be a warden someday.”

  A strange gleam shone in his eyes, and I couldn’t tell if he joked or teased or if he told the truth. “You seem too nice to be a warden. And I can’t imagine anyone ousting Grogan.” I shuddered, remembering his fierce demeanor.

  “It’s not a matter of usurping the man.” Finn leaned forward. “It’s a matter of outliving him.”

  The Lieutenant was serious. Yikes. “That bad? I thought Wirral is a maximum security prison.”

  “It is. You’ve seen the fortifications. However we house the worst offenders from all over Sitia. And some of those guys are amazingly creative and intelligent. It doesn’t happen very often, but in Wirral’s long history, there have been a few escapes and riots and warden assassinations.”

  Icy dread climbed up my throat. “Even from the SMU?” Tricky had escaped from Ixia—an almost impossible task. Would this prison be easier?

  My obvious unease caused Finn to rush to assure me. “SMU is escape-proof. See those guys?” He pointed his mug toward a trio sitting at a far table.

  They kept a distance from the others. Absorbed in conversation, the average-sized men didn’t evoke any warm feelings of safety in me. Plus I had learned words like impossible and escape-proof never worked. Someone, somewhere, at some time would prove it wrong.

  “They’re the best of the best,” he said. “When we finish our training, we’re all locked inside the prison for thirty days. Those of us who escape or manage to outwit the COs in some way are given another year of training and assigned to the SMU.”

  Impressive. “Thirty days inside must have been—”

  “Not fun. And since I transferred in, I still had to do thirty days in Wirral despite my other time behind bars.”

  “And?”

  “I managed. And with my prior experience, I was assigned to the SMU.”
He relaxed back in his seat. “So don’t worry. No one’s escaping on my watch.”

  Finn asked me a few questions about my life and from them I learned he knew I had been involved with Councilor Moon’s rescue, but not all the details. Good.

  As we talked, I kept an eye on the other SMU officers, trying to memorize their faces. At one point during our conversation, magic brushed me. A light inquisitive touch. I scanned the crowd, but, besides the two drunken soldiers glaring at me, no one paid me any attention. The drunks’ hostility didn’t match the magic, but making eye contact with them was a mistake. They approached us.

  Finn stiffened and said, “Don’t say a word.”

  Anger radiated from them. A sheen of alcohol and malice glazed their eyes. And they kept their hands on the hilts of their swords. They were a mirror image of each other, except the bruiser on the left had braided his hair into rows along his scalp and his companion’s lank hair hung straight to his shoulders.

  “Hey, LT, do you know who you’re cozying with?” Braids asked Finn in a loud voice. “That’s the Councilor’s new assistant.”

  “Why ’ja bring the bitch here?” Lank asked, slurring his words.

  Finn placed his hand on my arm. A not too subtle hint to keep calm. His gaze never left the men.

  “She fired my cousin, LT,” Braids said.

  The tavern quieted.

  Braids, sensing he had a larger audience, raised his voice and addressed the room. “She put my cousin and at least a dozen others out of work.”

  Lank said, “And why ’ja think she was sniffing around the prison? How many of us are gonna be fired?”

  Not good. I glanced around. Others nodded in agreement, siding with the drunks. No stopping it now. This was probably going to turn ugly.

  6

  MY RECENT STREAK OF BAD DECISIONS CONTINUED. What had I been thinking when I agreed to a drink with one of the prison officers? The rumblings of discontent over my presence in the Spotted Dog tavern increased. A couple men moved closer to the two drunks who had started this confrontation, and one of the elite officers joined the growing mob.

  Tossed out would be the best scenario for me. Beaten to a pulp the worst.

  “She cleaned out the riffraff,” Finn said to the two in my defense. “Did us a favor, and you know it. Besides, you hate your cousin, Cole. Said he couldn’t guard a baby.”

  Not the right thing to say. Braids…Cole drew his sword. “You takin’ her side, LT?”

  Finn stood in one fluid motion. The tension thickened the air, making it hard to draw a breath.

  I rose to my feet, being careful not to make any sudden moves. “Gentlemen, Councilor Moon has no intention of changing anything at the prison. I was merely delivering a message for her. I’m sorry about your cousin, Cole. If you tell me his name, I can try to find him another job.”

  He blinked at me as if trying to make sense of my words. Before he could respond, Finn said, “The government will be hiring construction workers to build an addition to HQ when the weather’s warmer. Lots of jobs then.”

  The friction eased. A voice announced that a barrel of special ale was open and most of the crowd disbursed. When a few more COs entered the tavern, cheerful calls to a rookie hotshot erupted. Knowing a good distraction when I saw one, I grabbed Finn’s hand and headed toward the door.

  I didn’t release my hold until we were a few blocks away. The setting sun cast long shadows along the street.

  “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would recognize you,” Finn said.

  Confused, I asked, “Why not? You did.”

  “I’m naturally nosy.” He quirked a smile. “Actually, knowing who is who in town is part of my job. A new arrival might mean someone is trying to aid a prisoner.”

  “To escape?”

  “Escape, or just to smuggle in supplies. Trading goods inside is very lucrative and every single item in there has two different uses at least. I keep track of all the merchants and delivery people. If I see a new face, I’m automatically suspicious. When I heard the Councilor hired a new assistant, I made sure to get a good look at you.”

  “I hadn’t realized there was so much involved with your job.”

  “A common misconception. Everyone thinks we just stand around. But we have to be one step ahead of the prisoners or risk being surprised by a weapon made of crushed glass mixed in feces.”

  I stopped. “You’re not serious. Are you?”

  His queasy grimace didn’t change.

  “Yuck. At least you have one more person who has a greater appreciation of what you do. Thanks for the drink. I’d better get back before the Councilor worries.”

  “I’ll escort you.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Finn was my only link to Wirral. “Okay,” I agreed. He could be my way inside.

  We walked for a while in silence.

  I mulled over what he had told me. “Do all the different areas of the prison have specific titles like SMU?” I asked.

  “Yes. There are a ton of official designations, but we have nicknames for almost all of them.”

  “Where does a rookie hotshot work?”

  He laughed. “That’s the new guy in the SMU. The nickname for us is the hotshots. And rookies are the ones either newly graduated from training or new to the prison. I was called the rookie LT until he arrived.”

  “Here you go.” Faith dropped a thick file folder on my desk. “Delivered this morning.”

  Her amused tone drew my attention. I glanced at her. She stood with one hand resting on her cocked hip. Her short hair was tucked behind her ears as always, but she smirked.

  Oh no. “What’s the catch?” I asked.

  “The warden wasn’t…happy with your interruption two days ago.”

  “And?”

  “And you’re barred from entering his prison again.”

  I shuddered, remembering the conditions. “That’s fine by me. So why so smug?”

  “You’ve met the man. Not much upsets him, but our request plus your audacity—his word, not mine—in not trusting him or his people has galled him. He has issued you a challenge.” Faith was downright gleeful.

  “Why me? You wrote the request,” I grumbled.

  “Come on, Opal. The warden isn’t an idiot.”

  “Since you’re dying to tell me, go on.”

  “He challenged you to find anything, anything wrong with his correctional officers or his prison.”

  “He’s that confident?”

  She nodded.

  Nothing was perfect. “Tell him I accept his challenge.”

  Faith whistled. “Bold.”

  “What’s bold?” Tama Moon asked from behind Faith.

  The First Adviser jumped a foot. “Don’t scare me like that!”

  “Sorry.” But the Councilor didn’t appear apologetic. In fact, her eyebrows were pinched close, puckering the skin on her forehead. “What are you two plotting?”

  I noted her word choice. Plotting. Paranoid vibes wafted from her.

  Quicker to respond, Faith said, “Nothing.” However she couldn’t lie convincingly, which added to Tama’s suspicions.

  “Nothing important,” I said. “Nic challenged me to spar with him. My sais against his sword, and I not only accepted but claimed I would win.”

  Tama released a breath and her shoulders eased down a fraction. “That is bold.” Her frown remained. She shoved a stack of files at Faith. “Here, I need you to check the payroll numbers and send them down to accounting.”

  Faith clutched the packet to her chest and shot me a worried glance before hurrying away.

  “Opal, I need to speak to you in my office.”

  I studied her as I followed. Uncombed white-blond hair hung in clumps as if she just rolled out of bed. Her hands hugged her arms. When we reached her desk, she snatched a paper from the surface and waved it at me.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  I reached for the sheet and touched magic. A thick bubble resisted my hand,
but I pushed through and took the paper from Tama. Damn it, Zebb. We had a deal. I squashed my desire to find him and crack his head open with my sais. He had just undone weeks of improvement, sending Tama back to where we started.

  Instead, I kept my face neutral as I scanned the letter. When a person was convicted and sentenced to prison, all his assets were turned over to the Sitian government to put toward the cost of his incarceration. The letter was a standard reversal of assets to the Moon Clan and not something that would need the Councilor’s approval. Except in this case, the prisoner was Akako, Tama’s sister. Akako’s signature meant she agreed to the terms stated in the letter, and it was countersigned by Tama.

  Confused, I tried to determine what she was really asking. “You approved the transfer.”

  “I know that! Look here.” She stabbed her finger at a line of text below her signature.

  I squinted at the fine print. “You also waived your right to purchase her assets. Is that bad?”

  “Of course it’s bad. She owned my parent’s house! I want to buy it. It’s a good thing I found that before it went to the realty office.” She rounded on me. “How did you do it, Opal? Stick it in the middle of a bunch of papers so I wouldn’t see it when I signed it?”

  Her accusation took a moment to sink in. She believed I had tricked her into signing away her rights. “I didn’t—”

  “Don’t lie to me.” She snatched the paper from my hands. “This is an act of espionage.”

  “Why would I do that? What would I gain?” I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t listen.

  When she called for her guards to arrest me, I realized the magic must be influencing her. Zebb’s way of getting rid of me? Seemed complicated, but I could have underestimated him.

  The two guards rushed over. Nic and Eve were off duty. Bad timing for me, but not for the magician. With panic building in my chest, I touched Tama’s wrist, hoping my immunity to magic would somehow cover her and break the spell. No luck.

  She shrieked and yanked her arm back. The guards grabbed my shoulders, pulling me away. My mind raced through my five years of magical instruction at the Magician’s Keep, searching for something, anything that would help.