sea glass

The Council wanted me to return. My new powers terrified them, and me, too, if I thought about it for long.

The Council had an excellent reason to be nervous and want me safely contained. I could drain a magician of his or her powers. All I needed was a glass orb in my hands and I could extract their magic, transforming it into a physical substance—diamonds. A magician didn’t even have to attack me as I had first assumed.

Oh no, I could milk a magician dry without them doing a thing.

The Council’s messenger hadn’t waited around for a response. No one disobeyed a direct order from the Council. Certainly not a student glass magician who hadn’t even graduated from the Keep yet.

Unaware of the coming storm, I ignored the Council’s message and travelled on …

Also by New York Times bestselling author

Maria V. Snyder

The Chronicles of Ixia

POISON STUDY

MAGIC STUDY

FIRE STUDY

STORM GLASS

SEA GLASS

SPY GLASS

The Insider series

INSIDE OUT

OUTSIDE IN

Avry of Kazan series

TOUCH OF POWER

SCENT OF MAGIC

www.miraink.co.uk

Sea Glass
Maria V. Snyder

www.miraink.co.uk

This one is for Chris Phillips,

for his unique perspective on life.

A brother to me in all ways and a true wizard.

In memory of Robert Phillips,

a great guy and wonderful father.

THE TERRITORY OF IXIA

Chapter 1

WORRY AND DREAD clawed at my stomach. I read the message again. The order was clear and concise. Return to the Citadel immediately and report directly to the Council Hall. The signatures of the entire Sitian Council and all three Master Magicians were scrawled under the missive. A bit heavy-handed, but I couldn’t miss the importance nor doubt the seriousness.

“What does it say?” Janco asked. He plucked the paper from my fingers, scanned the short note and whistled. “This is major.” Scratching the scar where the lower half of his right ear used to be, Janco squinted at me in concern. “You’re not going to obey are you? ‘Cause, if you do—”

“I know.” No need to state the obvious.

“The Council will escort you straight to the Keep’s dungeons where you will stay for a very, very long time,” Devlen said in a matter-of-fact tone.

I glared at him.

“Did I say you can talk?” Janco asked him.

“I am trying to help,” he replied, shrugging. His cloak covered his hands, which had been manacled behind his back.

“I don’t want your help,” I said.

Devlen opened his mouth, and Janco jabbed him in his solar plexus. As Devlen gasped to regain his breath, Janco threatened to yank out his tongue if he uttered another word.

We all knew it was an empty threat. Traveling with Janco, Devlen and two Ixian guards for the past twenty days had become an exercise in patience for me. Since Devlen’s soul was currently living inside Ulrick’s body due to a twist of blood magic, Devlen knew Janco couldn’t harm him, so he needled Janco whenever possible.

We planned to escort Devlen to Moon Clan’s lands in order to find his body with Ulrick’s soul, and then have the Soulfinder Yelena switch them back. I had sent a message detailing this plan to Second Magician Zitora Cowan as soon as we reached the Sitian border.

“Opal,” Janco said. “We need a decision. It’s getting dark.”

“Give me a minute.” I drew in a deep breath. The Council wanted me to return. My new powers terrified them, and me, too, if I thought about it for long. The Council had an excellent reason to be nervous and want me safely contained. I could drain a magician of his or her powers. All I needed was a glass orb in my hands and I could extract their magic, transforming it into a physical substance—diamonds. A magician didn’t even have to attack me as I had first assumed. Oh no, I could milk a magician dry without them doing a thing.

The Council’s messenger hadn’t waited around for a response. No one disobeyed a direct order from the Council. Certainly not a student glass magician who hadn’t even graduated from the Keep yet.

“Well?” Janco asked with impatience.

Finding Ulrick was more important, and putting a stop to blood magic was vital. “We’ll make a detour to Fulgor first. I’ll send Zitora a message. She’ll understand.” I hoped.

However, my plans didn’t go the way I had envisioned. Nope. No warning bells or strange portents would alert me that by the next day Devlen and I would be in the exact opposite positions.

Unaware of the coming storm, I ignored the Council’s message. We hiked east through a thin forest. Dead leaves crunched under our boots. The cold season had stripped the trees and bushes, leaving behind bare branches. The warming season had started a few days ago, and the frozen ground had turned into a muddy mess as we traveled farther south. Glancing over my shoulder, I noted the beauty of the stark and simple woods against the wide swaths of colors in the sky. The cool air smelled damp and fresh.

“Should we make camp before it gets dark?” Janco asked.

This section of Sitia seemed familiar to me, and my stomach knotted as I remembered when I’d been here before.

“Is your cabin nearby?” I asked Devlen.

“I was wondering if you recognized the area,” he said with a faint smile. “The good old days.”

I bit my lip to keep from contradicting him. When he wasn’t trying to play with my mind and emotions, he enjoyed irritating me, too. For example, he had lapsed back into the Daviian pattern of speech instead of trying to mimic Ulrick. “How close?”

Devlen scanned the woods and met my gaze. An odd sensation rippled through me. Seeing his cold calculation in Ulrick’s vibrant green eyes still unsettled me. Ulrick’s long eyelashes, black hair and sharp features all remained, but I longed for Ulrick’s tender smile.

“Quite close. Are you sure you want to go there?” Devlen asked.

I considered. “Better than spending another night in the open. Take the lead.”

He led us to a small one-story cabin as all light fled the sky. Janco lit a fire in the hearth, then unpacked our travel rations.

“It’s too dark to hunt. I’ll search for a few rabbits in the morning.” He placed a pot of water on the fire to cook his road stew.

At first, the ad hoc concoction of Janco’s had tasted wonderful, but after twenty days, I longed for my mother’s apple cobbler and bread pudding. Her roast pork alone would be worth the five-day journey to Booruby.

Homesickness and loneliness stabbed my chest. My parents must have been distraught when they learned of my disappearance. Despite knowing my mother would fuss over me and admonish me for hours, I longed for home.

As Janco stirred the stew, the two guards took turns bringing in more firewood. I grabbed a branch and made a torch. Devlen watched me. He had been manacled to the support beam in the living room. Last time we were here, I had been Devlen’s prisoner.

I stepped into the kitchen to search for food, but the few scraps of bread and cheese had spoiled. Crossing the living room to check the bedrooms, I trod on glass shards, the crackle-crunch under my boots unmistakable.

“I did not get a chance to clean up,” Devlen called.

I crouched. The shards reflected the torchlight. It had been one of the glass orbs the Stormdancers used to harvest a storm’s energy. Another pang of loneliness touched me. Kade had remained behind in Ixia to calm the lethal blizzards blowing in from the northern ice sheet. Kade would fill a number of orbs with the killing wind’s energy and save many lives. I closed my eyes, remembering his goodbye kiss. I would forgo my mother’s cooking for another moment wrapped in his long, lean arms.

Janco announced the stew was ready. I opened my eyes and straightened. My saddlebags remained where Devlen had tossed them in the corner with my sais still hooked onto them. Grabbing them, I returned to the fire, sitting down next to Janco.

Devlen groaned. “I should have hidden those.”

Janco perked up, peering over his bowl. “What ja got?”

“My sais.” I hefted the weapons. One in each hand. They looked like short swords except the main shaft was a half-inch thick and octagonal. A weighted octagonal knob at the top balanced the sai. It resembled a three-pronged pitchfork with a long center tine.

I held them in a defensive position. The metal shaft rested along my forearm. From this position I could block a strike, jab an opponent with the knob or switch my grip and do a temple strike with the shaft.

“Sweet,” Janco said. “Can I try?”

I showed him a few moves and he was proficient in no time.

“These don’t have the reach of a bow staff or sword, more of a defensive weapon. But in close…” He jabbed with both sais as if aiming at an invisible opponent’s ribs. The weapons blurred with the motion. “In close, you have it made. I’m gonna get me a pair. A Sitian souvenir.”

“She does not need to get close or even use those at all,” Devlen said. “Not with the other goodies in her bags.”

Janco stopped his attack and looked at me as if waiting for a treat. “Well? Spill.”

I unbuckled the flaps and upended the contents onto the wooden floor. Glass spiders and bees rained out in a loud clatter. Janco exchanged the sais for one of the brown spiders. He examined it in the firelight.

“Trapping Warpers not enough? Have you moved on to trapping spiders now?” Janco asked.

“No. Tricky had attacked me with a magical illusion of big spiders. When I channeled his magic into the orb they transformed into glass.” I suppressed a shudder. Those creatures had been a foot long.

“Why didn’t they turn into diamonds?”

“He directed his magic at her in the form of spiders,” Devlen said. “The magic only transforms into diamonds when she steals it.” Anger fueled his words.

“From what you did with your magic, I don’t blame her.” Janco exchanged the spider for a glass bee. “In fact, I’d rather she steal everyone’s magic. No power over another’s mind. No stealing souls. No crazy or weird stuff. Diamonds are much better.” He held the bee up to the firelight. The green-and-black stripes glowed. “Pretty.”

I shivered. “Pretty scary. They’re Greenblade bees. Their six-inch-long bodies are filled with lethal venom. Only I can crack open the glass and release the bee. One sting and you’re dead.”

“Cool.” Janco’s eyes lit with admiration.

Interesting how he could appreciate the killing power of a bee, yet he despised magical powers. I wondered if I should point out the inconsistency until I remembered Janco could argue about any point, logical or not. I would get an hour-long lecture on how everyone knows bees sting, but a magician could hide their lethality until too late.

The next morning we resumed our journey. I planned to find a town in order to rent or purchase horses, but didn’t know the surrounding area well enough. Unfortunately, Devlen was well acquainted. I hated to ask him for help, but the Council wouldn’t hesitate to send a retrieval party once they figured out I disobeyed their summons.

“Do you know where the closest town is?” I asked Devlen.

“Why should I help you?”

“Do you want to walk all the way to Fulgor?”

“I do not mind. I enjoy your company. The longer it takes for us to get there, the more time I can spend with you.”

“Watch it,” Janco warned.

“How about I make a deal with you?” Devlen stepped closer.

My legs wanted to step back, but I held my ground. “You don’t have anything to bargain with. We can just head east until we find one. Otherwise there’s a good stable in Owl’s Hill.”

“You do not want to get that close to the Citadel and Magician’s Keep.” He shook his head. “I do have something to bargain with.”

Unlikely, but I gestured for him to continue.

“Quartz and Moonlight.” He watched my reaction and smiled.

“Who are they?” Janco asked.

“Mine and Ulrick’s horses.” And I missed Quartz almost as much as I missed Kade.

“I’ll lead you to them and in exchange—”

“No way,” Janco said.

“Let him finish,” I said. And when the Ixian frowned at me, I added, “Please. They’re Sandseed horses.”

He nodded, but his expression made it clear to me he was unhappy.

“In exchange, I want you to remove the manacles.”

“No way,” Janco and I said together.

“I promise not to run. I have been cooperating with you the entire trip.”

“You’ve been a pain in the ass the entire trip,” Janco said. “I’m sure given the first opportunity you’d bolt.”

“And I can’t trust you at all,” I said. “There is no reason for you to keep your promise.”

Devlen sighed. “You know why I would not, Opal. Just look past the whole kidnapping thing and remember how you felt when we were together.”

“The whole kidnapping thing? You might be able to dismiss it out of hand, but, to me, it’s too big to look past.”

“You just want to deny you loved me.”

“I cared for Ulrick, whose body you stole. Not you!”

“Come on. You had to know I was not Ulrick. No one changes that much.”

I almost laughed. He had done it again. Played with my emotions. It was like arguing with Janco—a no-win situation. Devlen had been trying to trick me into saying I had fallen for him well aware on some unconscious level of who he was.

The real reason he wanted me close was for the chance to reclaim his magical abilities with blood magic. The same illegal powers that Devlen had used to switch souls with Ulrick in the first place.

“Okay. Fine. Keep lying to yourself. I will take you to the horses anyway.” Devlen led us to a large horse farm a few miles north of Robin’s Nest in the Featherstone lands.

Peter Featherstone, the stable’s owner, showed us to the pasture. Moonlight’s mostly black coat stood out among the other horses. He nickered and ran to the fence with Quartz on his heels. Happy to see her, I threw my arms around Quartz’s neck and hugged her. When she pulled away in impatience, I inspected her from nose to tail. Her reddish-brown and white coat gleamed. No mud or cuts marred her legs and her mane and tail had been combed free of briars and straw. Her hooves were trimmed and neat. No horseshoes, though. Sandseed horses won’t let a farrier near them.

She nudged me with her nose, searching for treats. The only white on her brown face was a patch between her eyes. I probably imagined the sympathetic look she gave me, suppressing the sudden desire to pour my heart out to her.

I checked Moonlight. His sleek muscles enhanced his powerful build and he appeared healthy, too. The only white on him—the circle on his forehead and the reason for his name—shone as if recently washed.

“No doubt they’re yours,” Peter said.

“What do I owe you for their care?” I asked.

He looked at Devlen in surprise. “Nothing. He paid for two full seasons. In fact, I owe you.”

“Perhaps we can work out a deal. I need three more horses.”

“They won’t be Sandseed horses. They’re too expensive. It’s been my pleasure to take care of these two. I’ve never seen such intelligence.” Peter led us to the main stable.

The large wooden building smelled of earth and horses. Sawdust littered the floor and dust motes floated in the sunlight streaming through the big open doors. Two rows of stalls, sitting back-to-back, lined each side, creating three walkways. The main through way was wider than the others. Ropes hung along the stalls to secure horses for grooming and saddling.

“Your tack is in the back room.” He pointed. “I’ll have my staff bring your horses and the rental horses. See what you think of them.” He hustled back to the pasture.

I entered the tack room. My saddle hung on the far wall and I unhooked it. The leather had been cleaned. In fact, the bridles, reins and rest of our tack appeared to be in good condition. The neat and organized room reflected Peter’s caring and professional attitude.

Which was why the crack of a whip surprised me so much. Laden with equipment, I hurried from the room.

Janco clutched his right hand. Blood poured from between his fingers. He dodged as a long leather whip snapped at him. His sword lay on the ground out of his reach. The two Sitian guards fought four men with pitchforks. Devlen stood to the side, grinning.

We were under attack.

Chapter 2

I DROPPED THE TACK. My sais and glass spiders remained in my saddlebags. Right where I had left them with Janco. A brute of a man attacked him with a whip. Janco ducked and darted, trying to get to his sword. He was fast, but with each snap, the whip tore his shirt to rags. Blood stained the shredded material.

No weapons. No time. I charged the man wielding the whip, intending to knock him over or distract him long enough for Janco to regain his weapon.

I had forgotten about Devlen. He plowed into me before I reached my target. We crashed into the side of a stall. My breath whooshed from my lungs as his weight pressed me into the ground. Gasping and choking on dirt, I struggled to push Devlen off, to no avail.

“Gotcha!” a man’s voice yelled.

The snaps stopped, but the ring of metal sounded for another minute until a furious round of clatters and curses ended in silence.

“What the hell is going on here?” Peter demanded.

Good question.

“Contingency plan,” Devlen said. He lurched to his feet with his hands still manacled.

I scrambled to grab him, but another man leveled his pitchfork at my chest. Our Sitian guards knelt with their hands laced behind their heads. Behind them two men pressed pitchforks into their backs. The man with the whip held Janco. The whip’s leather strap wrapped around Janco’s torso multiple times, trapping his arms.

The horse Peter had been leading shied away from the smell of blood, but he quieted the animal with a reassuring hand. “Explain now,” he ordered.

I counted six men—seven if I included Devlen—against three. The fourth pitchfork man searched Janco’s pockets and found the key for Devlen’s cuffs.

Once freed of the manacles, Devlen rubbed his wrists. “Thank you.” He turned to Peter. “As you said yourself, Sandseed horses are expensive. I am afraid these people here—” he swept his arm out, indicating me and Janco “—tried to trick you.”

“He’s lying—ow!” The pitchfork’s sharp metal points jabbed into me.

“Do not be rude, Opal. You spun your story. Now it is my turn.” Devlen smoothed his hair away from his face. “The reason I paid for two seasons is I planned to be gone for two seasons, but I had a feeling something like this might happen and confided in the stable manager.” He inclined his head to the big man holding Janco. “You see, Sandseed horses are prized in Ixia. These three are really Ixian soldiers.”

The two Sitians guards tried to deny the accusation, but were pricked into silence.

“I am a horse trader and had business near the Ixian border,” Devlen continued. “They disguised themselves as Sitians, kidnapped me and coerced me into bringing them here so they could steal my horses.”

Protests erupted and pitchforks poked. My body felt like a steak being tenderized. Janco remained unusually quiet. A good or bad sign? I couldn’t tell.

Peter’s expression had turned from outrage to confusion. “But what about her? The painted mare wouldn’t have let a stranger touch her. It took me three weeks to get her to trust me.”

“My sister. Unfortunately, she was romanced by him.” He pointed at Janco. “She is young and inexperienced. He used her.” He clucked his tongue.

Outraged, I stepped away from the pitchfork. “We’re not related. He’s lying to you.”

My guard glanced at Devlen, and I braced for the jab. Devlen gave him a dismissive wave. No holes for now. Yippee for me.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, looking from Devlen to me, “I don’t know who to believe.”

“You will want proof, of course,” Devlen said. “Go ahead, Opal, prove your ridiculous story to Peter.”

I opened my mouth and closed it. All I had on hand was the message from the Council and it would do more harm than good. The permission papers to travel through and leave Ixia had been collected by the border guards. The only way to convince Peter would be if he verified my story with one of the magicians in the Keep or with Zitora, which would alert the Council to my location. But better to be forced to appear before the Council and locked in the Keep’s cells than be Devlen’s prisoner again.

Devlen smirked as the silence lengthened. “She has nothing.”

“Peter can contact Second Magician Zitora Cowan to verify my story,” I said. The stable owner looked suitably awed.

“Name-dropping. Very impressive,” Devlen said. “And it would take a long time, too. Extra points for creativity.”

“Do you have any proof?” Peter asked.

“Of course.” Devlen strode to Janco’s pack and opened it. He turned it upside down and shook out the contents. “Ixian uniform. Ixian coins. Ixian weapons.”

“It’s a knife,” I said. “Everyone uses a knife.”

He yanked the blade from its sheath. “Not with Ixian battle symbols etched in the metal.”

Real fear caressed my spine. Before, the whole situation was preposterous, but now I worried Peter would believe him.

“If you need more, I can saddle Moonlight. You know Sandseed horses are very particular about who can ride them.”

Peter nodded.

“At least confirm my story with Master Cowan, before you do anything,” I pleaded.

Devlen scoffed. “As if he has the time. How many mares are ready to foal?” he asked Peter.

“Too many.” The stable owner sighed. “I don’t have time for this, either. I’ll send a message to Robin’s Nest and have the authorities deal with it.”

“Excellent idea.” Yet Devlen frowned and rubbed his wrists.

Peter took the bait. “But?”

“Oh, it is nothing. Since Opal is not of age yet, my father will be summoned. And it is the warming season—a busy time for farmers. He will be furious with us both.”

“I’m twenty,” I said, but Devlen and Peter shared a yeah-right look. Turning to the stable owner, I appealed to his intelligence. “We don’t even look like we’re related. Please wait.”

Peter chewed on his lip. “Horses have better sense than people. If he can saddle the black Sandseed horse, he’s telling the truth. Then he can take you home to help your father.” He turned to his manager, “Ox, secure those men. Use their manacles and lock them in the tack room. Bret, go fetch the authorities. You two—” he jabbed a finger at me and Devlen “—get your saddles and come with me.”

The stable hands moved to obey. Ox kept Janco wrapped tight in the whip.

I met Janco’s steady gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch up,” Janco said before Ox dragged him away.

With no other options, I grabbed my saddle and followed Peter to the pasture. My situation transformed from bad to worse.

Moonlight snuffled Devlen’s hair, nudged him for treats and stood to be saddled without being tied to the gate. Yelena had told me Sandseed horses could sense magic. I had hoped Moonlight would balk at Devlen’s soul in Ulrick’s body until I remembered he had explained there was no magic to detect, and only the Soulfinder would know of his deception.

Peter saddled Quartz, but Devlen placed my saddlebags on Moonlight along with Janco’s sword. Great.

He thanked the stable owner. “Now we can get home and help my father plow.”

My panic must have reached my face. Peter touched my shoulder. “Don’t worry too much. Your father’ll be mad, but I’m sure he’ll forgive you in time. Daughters hold a special place in their hearts. I know.”

I tried to convince him of my honesty, but his stern frown warned me he’d had enough. Quartz felt my fear, but she nuzzled me as if to say, “Snap out of it.” She snorted with impatience. Her desire for action was evident, but I remained on the ground, declaring I would wait for the authorities to arrive.

Peter glanced at Devlen. “I have rope and leather ties.”

“No.” The mere thought of being tied to the saddle horrified me. I’d rather be free so I could escape as soon as we were out of sight. I mounted Quartz, feeling dazed over the speed with which my situation had changed.

Peter handed her reins to Devlen on Moonlight. With a final wave, he clicked and we left at a trot. I waited until the woods obscured the stable, then reached to unbuckle Quartz’s bridle. The bone-jarring gait made it difficult to keep my balance. I almost fell. Not that I would care, falling and running was plan B.

“What are you doing?” Devlen asked. He stopped the horses.

“Enjoying the scenery.”

“You have spent too much time with that annoying Ixian. Sarcasm does not suit you.” He dismounted.

“And being a doormat does?” I swung my leg over, preparing to slide down and bolt.

He pulled the sheath with my sais from the saddlebags. “No. You already proved you are not a doormat when you drained me, Tricky and Crafty of our magic. After I recovered from my surprise, I was quite proud of you.”

“Proud?” Not the feeling I expected.

“Yes. What you did was ruthless and smart. You did not hesitate. Much better than the whimpering little girl at our first meeting.”

I bit down on another sarcastic remark. I had been fourteen and a prisoner. He had tortured me—justified whimpering.

Devlen strode toward me with the sheathed sais. I planned my next move. But instead of pulling the weapons and threatening me, he shoved the sheath and Quartz’s reins at me.

“Here. Go. Do what you want.” He returned to Moonlight and mounted.

I clutched the weapons to my chest.

He spun his horse around and laughed at my confusion. “Did you think I was going to drag you to a remote cabin so I can reclaim my magic from your blood?”

“Yes.” Before I siphoned Devlen’s Warper powers, he had used blood magic to help Tricky regain a bit of his magic by injecting my blood into Tricky’s skin.

Good thing Tricky was incarcerated in an Ixian jail. And even better, Devlen didn’t know he was protected by my blood. He was the only magician impervious to my glass magic.

“Ten days ago, I would have. But I am getting used to being without magic, and do not miss the hunger for more power that had consumed me. Right now, I am more intrigued.”

Again, not what I expected. “Okay, I’ll bite. Intrigued about what?”

“About your reaction when you find Ulrick.”

“That’s no mystery. I’ll be happy.”

“Even when he tells you he does not want to be saved?” He considered. “And his reaction after I inform him about our intimacies should be interesting. He cares for you and he will be upset you did not notice the change.”

I suppressed the urge to correct him. Ulrick’s behavior and attitude had changed, but I thought it was due to seeing his sister, Gressa. Her self-absorption and over-the-top ego caused him to realize how his own maudlin demeanor was being perceived as self-pity by those around him. It had made sense, and I liked his new confidence and boldness. Which could be why I didn’t question the change. And why Devlen kept returning to the subject.

Focusing on the situation at hand, I pulled my sais.

Devlen smiled. “What are you planning?”

“Take you back to the stable, and rescue my friend.”

“That would not go well in your I-am-the-good-one defense with Peter. Besides, we have already proven your sais are no match for my sword.”

He had a point. Last time we fought, he maneuvered past my defenses with ease, slicing my arms and legs until I was dizzy with exhaustion. If I returned to the stables, Peter would probably lock me up until the city guards arrived. But I couldn’t let Devlen escape, either.

He watched my face. “Guess you are stuck with me.”

Until I could recapture him. “Where are you going?”

“To Fulgor to find Ulrick.”

Caught off guard, I paused, letting his words sink in. “Don’t you already know where he is? You said—”

“I lied. At the time, I wanted you to think I held him. More incentive for you to obey me. After we switched bodies, he went one way and I went another. I keep telling you he consented to the exchange, but you refuse to believe me.”

“You’ve just admitted to lying, and you wonder why I don’t trust you.”

He threw his hands up. “I guess finding him will end the argument. We need to hurry, though. I figure we have a day at most before your annoying Ixian is tracking us.” Devlen spurred Moonlight into a gallop.

Lacking another option, I urged Quartz to follow.

Well after midnight, we stopped to rest for a few hours. Devlen had kept to the northern Featherstone forests, avoiding populated areas. Which was good and bad for me. Our passage through the trees left a clear trail for Janco to track, yet the isolation set my nerves on edge. He was armed. Granted, my glass spiders and bees were in my saddlebags on Moonlight, but I wouldn’t use the bees, and the spiders were more effective when my opponent was surprised.

We collected firewood, and Devlen cooked a simple bread stew.

“We will need more supplies.” He handed me a bowl of the steaming liquid.

I sniffed the contents.

He laughed. “You think I poisoned it.”

“You could have put in a sleeping potion or goo-goo juice.”

Devlen shook his head as if he couldn’t believe my stupidity. I realized he had plenty of chances to escape or…what? Capture me? Why bother when I’m following him like a lost puppy?

Yet I flinched every time he moved, grabbed the hilts of my sais when he came too close and jerked when he said my name. I almost wanted him to attack so I didn’t have to wait and worry anymore. Sleep would be impossible.

“We will leave at dawn and make a stop at the border market.” Devlen unrolled his sleeping mat and squirmed into a comfortable position.

The small market was located on the borderline between the Moon and Featherstone clans. At our current travel rate, I estimated we would arrive at Fulgor in two days.

Devlen’s breathing slowed. I contemplated rearresting him. He said he wanted to go to Fulgor, but he could have been lying. Perhaps I could grab his sword. The weapon lay in its sheath beside him. His hand rested on the hilt. I decided to make the attempt.

I waited an hour, hoping he would relax into a deeper slumber. Seizing the tip of the scabbard, I inched his sword away from him. He moved in a heartbeat, snatching my wrist and yanking me forward. I sprawled in an ungainly heap next to him.

“Opal, you should know better after all those nights we spent sleeping side by side.” He released my wrist and snaked his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. “I missed this.”

I stiffened. “You would. Let me go.”

“I do not miss the times after you knew who I was, but before. You did enjoy yourself.”

Those memories were tainted with his deception. It was difficult for me to recall them without feeling the fool, without feeling embarrassed and humiliated. If I removed him and concentrated on the time spent as being with Ulrick, then I could agree. But there was the doubt, too. Did I know in an instinctive way that he wasn’t really Ulrick?

“I did,” I said. “But what happened after has ruined any joy.”

His muscles tightened for a moment. “I am sorry to have caused you pain. It was difficult for me to be so cruel, but I was obsessed and needed your help. I happen to be very good at finding those pressure points, and, if you think about it, there is no lasting damage. Once the pressure is released the pain stops. No bruises, no broken bones and no wounds to get infected.”

“Should I be glad you tortured me that way?” Sarcasm spiked my words. I jerked away.

He sighed. “No. Just trying to explain.”

“Don’t bother. It’s bad enough you tricked me and wanted to use me to find your mentor, but you planned to give me to Sir and Namir’s men. I don’t think they would have been as considerate as you and go for the no-lasting-damage torture.” I shuddered, remembering Shen’s hungry eyes and possessive touch.

“An empty threat. I hoped you would decide to stay with me and learn about blood magic once we freed my mentor.”

I laughed. “Wouldn’t happen.”

“Why not? I will admit blood magic has a horrible history and reputation. But it does not have to be ill used. The blood I collected was freely given. I did not kill anyone to obtain it, nor did anyone die.”

Creative lies. I didn’t think he had it in him. “And the Kirakawa ritual…?”

“Would have been my first unwilling sacrifice.”

“Uh-huh. So I’m to believe you never killed anyone.”

He pushed up to his elbow. “No. I have been in battles and have defended myself. Even you cannot make that claim.”

True. By my command, one of my bees had killed the leader of a gang of robbers, and two of Namir’s men died at Icefaren station when I’d rescued Kade and stolen Devlen and Crafty’s magic.

“But you still want to finish the Kirakawa, which is illegal and immoral. And requires you to release your mentor, who was imprisoned for a very good reason.” Agroup of Daviian Warpers had used the Kirakawa ritual to boost their magical power so they could counter the Master Magicians. They’d almost gained control of Sitia.

The desire to rid Sitia of all knowledge of blood magic pulsed through my body.

He lay back, stretching out on his mat. “My priorities have changed.” He stared at me. “I would rather focus on other things for now.”

“Like what?”

“You.”

Chapter 3

THE TINY SMUDGE of light brightened, pushing the deep blackness of night away. While Devlen had slept, I transferred my bags to my saddle, tucking a few spiders and bees into my cloak and pants pockets. I couldn’t use them against Devlen, but they could be useful for other situations.

Devlen awoke refreshed. I wished I could say the same. My single uneasy hour of sleep had been fraught with disturbing dreams of being hunted.

We packed our meager supplies and headed east. If Devlen had noticed my late-night efforts, he gave no sign of it. The morning air held a crisp scent of pine. No clouds tainted the bright sky. Except for my companion, the day promised to be a perfect one for travel.

I would have ridden right by the border market if I had been alone. The scattering of stalls and tables matched the brownish-gray color of the forest. Customers dressed in plain tunics and pants dyed in various earth tones shopped. It was as if the people had no desire to clash with their surroundings.

I fingered my new charcoal-gray cloak. Trading the Ixian one I had worn for this one, I’d also swapped the uniform Devlen had given me to wear while in Ixia. My cream-colored tunic and dark brown linen pants were suitably nondescript. In fact, with my brown leather boots, brown eyes and hair, I fit right in. My sister Mara’s voice sounded in my mind, correcting me: Golden-brown hair, Opal. Look at those streaks of gold. And: Mother named you for your eyes. Black opals are so elegant and reflect the light.

I smiled, thinking about my younger brother’s comments: Mud brown and poop brown. Poor Opal, after Mother had Mara and Tula there was nothing pretty left. My reply was to mention how deficient he was in intelligence, launching us into an argument with no winner.

Longing to see them erased my grin.

“How much money do you have?” Devlen asked. He dismounted and tied Moonlight to a nearby tree.

“Not much.” I rummaged in my pack and found a few coins. Janco carried the bulk of the money.

“I will buy jerky and cheese, and you can get the bread.”

We split up to purchase the food. A feeling of oddness settled on my shoulders. I felt as if I should seek help from the locals. Yet I knew any claims about my bizarre situation would be met with disbelief. Devlen’s sweet-talking skills would negate any sympathy.

Fulgor would be the same. To prove my story, the authorities would have to contact Zitora for confirmation. She would alert them to my status. I almost laughed at the irony of trying to get Devlen arrested and instead being the one locked up.

The best plan would be to find Ulrick and then bring him and Devlen to Yelena. She could switch their souls back to their right bodies. Devlen would then be incarcerated, I would report to the Citadel as ordered and Ulrick…? Could do whatever he wanted.

Guilt squeezed my stomach. Ulrick and I had a relationship before Devlen interrupted. But now I had Kade, and just the thought of the Stormdancer caused a hurricane to blow around my insides. I would have to tell Ulrick about Kade.

Devlen and I packed the items into our bags and mounted. After spending another sleepless night in the open, we arrived at Fulgor late the next afternoon.

Sitting across the table from Devlen, I felt unsettled. He had done nothing to alarm me, but the atmosphere in the Weir Inn’s common room seemed charged. The normal buzz of conversation was muted as if the others were afraid of being overheard.

I glanced around. Town guards sat at tables and leaned against the bar. More than usual or was I just ultra-aware of them because of my situation?

I questioned Devlen on Ulrick. “Where did you leave him?”

“We parted company at the Tulip Inn on the western edge of town.”

He stuck to his story and I had no way to force the truth from him. “I’ll play along. Did he say where he planned to go?”

“I suggested he find a mentor to teach him how to use his new powers and to increase them.”

“With blood magic?”

“Of course. You cannot add to your magical abilities otherwise.”

I considered my own history with magic. At first, I had thought I possessed one trick—to capture magic inside my glass animals. But when Kade exhausted himself filling orbs with storm energy, I joined my essence with him and helped contain the lethal might of the tempest. Then I discovered the skill to harvest another’s magic.

“Your magic was always there, Opal. You lacked the confidence and the knowledge to fully use it.”

“You can read my mind?”

“No. Your face. Your expressions are easy to read. Despite your adventures with the sinister side of life, you remain an open and kind person.”

I would call them my misadventures.

Devlen relaxed against the back of his chair. “You do not agree. Just because you are smarter and more cautious now, you are not jaded and suspicious. When you meet someone, you think the best of them until they prove you wrong. It is refreshing and a little frustrating, especially in Ulrick’s case. He has not proven you wrong.”

“Mind games and sweet talk. You’re very good at those. You only know me through Ulrick’s memories.”

“And you have forgotten I was born a Sandseed and learned how to control my magic from the Story Weavers. Just because I chose to leave my clan to be a Warper does not mean I have forgotten my training. When I had magic, I scanned each person I touched. If they resonated with me, I had full access to the story threads of their life. Past, present and future.” He leaned closer. “You resonated deep within me. More than any other.”

He played with my emotions, conning me. I pushed aside his insinuations about knowing my life story. Focusing on the original topic, I asked, “Who would Ulrick seek out to teach him? According to the Sitian Council, all the Warpers are dead.”

Devlen propped his elbows onto the table and rested his chin on his hands. “Why are you asking me questions when you do not believe my answers?”

“Perhaps I’m hoping you’ll slip up and tell me the truth.”

He huffed. “Okay, fine. I told Ulrick there were three other Warpers who had escaped. They might have moved on, but two were living in Ognap and the other was somewhere near Bloodgood lands. I assume Ulrick would head east to Ognap. If the two Warpers are still there, he would find them.”

“How?”

“By their smell.” Seeing my confusion, he added, “It is not discernible by regular people or magicians. Only Warpers can smell it. Handy for a number of things, especially for finding spies in our midst.”

Ulrick could be in Ognap by now. If he was, then it would prove Devlen’s claims that Ulrick agreed to the switch. If he found the other Warpers, then they’re all together and I would have to deal with three powerful magicians. But it would also mean I could drain and neutralize three more blood magicians. Which was fine with me. The sooner the better.

Before, Ulrick’s skills were limited—his glass vases also trapped magic within them, but the magic transferred emotions rather than thoughts. Could he still use his own magic? Or had it remained with his body? I asked Devlen.

“No. Besides not knowing how to blow glass, all my own magic stayed with my soul.”

“How does blood magic work?” I asked.

Devlen sipped his ale. “Everyone has a soul. Therefore, everyone has magic. But not all can access the power source and use their magic potential. Only magicians can link their magic to the blanket of power.”

“I know all this. I studied at the Magician’s Keep for the past five years.”

“Humor me.” His finger traced the wood grain on the table. “Blood magic binds a person’s soul magic to his blood. It attaches energy to a physical substance. After the binding is achieved, blood can be drawn from the person and injected into another. The Warpers would mix the blood with tattoo ink and inject it into the skin.”

Devlen rubbed his arm as if remembering the prick of pain. “For the first level of the Kirakawa ritual, only a small amount is needed. The blood gives the Warper a boost of magic, and instead of drawing a thin thread of power from the blanket, he could pull a thicker strand. If the blood…donor is not a magician, the boost is weaker than blood from a magician.”

His gaze trapped mine. “This is where it becomes interesting. If the person receiving the blood is not a magician and the donor is not a magician, nothing happens. But if the nonmagical person injects blood from a magician, he gains the ability to connect with the power source. He becomes a magician. Think about it. Everyone could be a magician. Everyone would be equal. What is wrong with that?”

A persuasive argument, except for the one thing. “But it’s addicting. No one stops at the first level. The first few levels are benign, but once you get to level nine—”

“Ten is when the killings begin. And at level twelve the heart’s blood is harvested from the chambers of a heart. The final step reaps the most potent magic. Because the heart is where the soul resides.”

I shuddered, remembering the bloodstained sand at the Magician’s Keep. Sudden pride at my deeds during the Warper battle flared. Those who knew how to perform the last two levels of the Kirakawa had been imprisoned in my glass animals and hidden. Devlen had hoped to use me to find his captured mentor and finish the Kirakawa.

“What level were you on?” I asked.

“Eight.”

The word hung between us like a dark cloud. I pondered his explanation and encountered an anomaly. “The magic blood is injected into your skin, but when you switched bodies with Ulrick the tattoos didn’t go with you.”

“Correct. The extra magic stayed with my body. When I entered Ulrick’s, I only carried my original magic, which was strong.” He tapped his mug on the table. “Interesting. The addiction clung to me even when I swapped bodies.”

Horrifying was closer to the truth. If Devlen switched back to his body, he would have access to magic again and Ulrick would still be addicted.

He touched my hand. I recoiled. “When you stole my magic, you took away my greed for power. You could do the same for Ulrick.”

Ulrick had been frustrated with his limited magical abilities. To render him without any magic at all would be devastating. “I’m not sure he would want me to.”

“Does not matter what he wants. If you do not drain him, he will desire more magic and he has learned how to acquire it.”

With blood magic. “How could you say it doesn’t have to be ill used? Eventually anyone using it will advance to a point where he needs to kill in order to satisfy the hunger.”

“The desire to increase your power does not influence what you choose to do with your magic. Once acquired, I could do good things like heal and help others with it. The Daviian Warpers believed Sitia needed stronger leadership. They used their powers to overthrow the Council because they felt Ixia was on the verge of invading us, and the current Council would be ineffective in repelling them.”

“They were wrong.”

Devlen shrugged. “For now. Ixia’s Commander could always change his mind.”

“I can’t get past the fact of having to murder another to finish the ritual.”

He considered. “You could find someone on the edge of dying and take his soul right before he passes.”

“But then you deny him eternal peace in the sky.”

“Only if he was headed to the sky. What if the fire world claimed him? Given the choice of eternal pain or helping another, I have no doubt he would choose to stay.”

I almost agreed to the benefits of his scenario before I realized he had used his golden tongue to twist his words again. And I had fallen for it. Again.

His gaze slid pass me and a wry smile touched his lips. “Such a good boy. Right on time.”

I turned. Janco and four Sitian guards hustled toward us.

Devlen spread his hands wide, showing he was unarmed, but his attention never left me. “I enjoyed our conversation.”

Two guards rushed him. They jerked him to his feet and slammed him face-first onto the table. He offered no resistance despite being armed with Janco’s sword, which Janco wasted no time in reclaiming. Frisked and manacled, Devlen was pulled upright. The amused smile remained on his now-bloody lips.

All the patrons in the room stared at the spectacle. The other town soldiers watched with interest, but didn’t attempt to help their colleagues. Probably off duty.

“See you later,” Devlen said as the guards escorted him from the inn.

Janco remained behind. He turned a worried expression my way. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. How about you?” I gestured to his face and neck. Angry welts and scabs striped his skin.

He rubbed his arm. “Lousy whip. Took me by surprise. Knocked my sword right out of my hand.” His eyes, though, gleamed with appreciation. “Nasty weapon. I can’t wait to try it out on Ari.”

Janco’s partner, Ari, was twice as broad. Powerful and smart, Ari wouldn’t be easy to beat.

“Just don’t let him catch the whip. If he grabs it, you’re done.” I righted the mugs on the table and sat.

Plopping into the opposite chair, Janco winced.

“Do you want to go to a healer?” I asked.

He was quick to respond. “No. Absolutely not. I’m fine.” He waved down a server and ordered a meal. Moving with care, he leaned back. “Okay, spill.”

I filled him in on what had happened the past two days.

“You didn’t believe a word he said. Right?” Janco asked.

“Of course. I know better.” I tried to sound convincing, but wondered if the effort was for Janco’s benefit or mine.

“He’s got to have another reason for being here.”

He enjoyed twisting my emotions. Dismissing the thought, I said, “Your turn.”

“That big oaf, Ox, must wrestle bulls. He’s stronger than Ari and he wrapped me so tight in the whip, I couldn’t move a muscle.”

I suppressed a smile. Janco liked to exaggerate. This would be an interesting story.

“After waiting all day for the authorities to arrive, they wouldn’t hear our side of the story. Just carted us down to Robin’s Nest and dumped us in jail.” He shot me a cocky grin. “Local yokels. They did a sloppy search. My lock picks went undetected. But then I was in a quandary.” His grin turned sardonic. “I wished Ari was with me. He’s good with planning. But then again he would have lectured me on getting whupped by a man named Ox. I would have never lived it down.”

He swigged his ale and gazed at the liquid as if considering his near miss. Janco’s mood matched the waves in the sea, constantly up and down.

“A quandary?” I prompted.

“Oh, right.” He perked up. “If I escaped, the authorities would assume I was guilty and send soldiers after me. No big deal, except what to do when I caught up with you and Devlen? I couldn’t have him arrested if I had a posse on my tail. But I didn’t want to waste the night waiting for the town’s guards to confirm my story. I’ve seen what he’s done to you. It about killed me to decide.”

Judging by the time of Janco’s arrival with a team of Sitian soldiers, I figured he must have waited. “You did the right thing.”

He downed his ale and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “There is one problem.”

Oh no. I held my breath.

“In exchange for help to rescue you, I had to promise to escort you to the Citadel.”

I relaxed with relief, but my smile froze. A very un-Janco expression hardened his face. He was serious.

“I don’t go back on my word,” he said.

Bad news. I needed to find Ulrick. My mind raced. “What exactly did you promise?”

“I promised to take you to the Council. They’re frantic for your return.”

“Frantic? You could tell this from a message?”

“Yes. It read frantic.” He crossed his arms. “And considering the torture I thought you were enduring, I wasn’t going to waste time negotiating with them.”

“Thank you for your concern.”

He huffed, not mollified.

“Did you promise them a certain time? Like as soon as you rescued me or just that you would escort me home?”

A slow smile lit his face. “The time was implied. As in the sooner the better. But no. I just said I would bring you to the Council.”

“Then we need to make sure you come with me when I return after we find Ulrick.”

Janco ordered another ale to celebrate. “I like the way you think.”

Locating Ulrick proved to be difficult. The next morning, Janco and I talked to the Tulip Inn’s owner. He remembered Ulrick and Devlen because he had worried they would cause trouble. He thought Ulrick had been in a drunken brawl by the way he leaned on his companion and by the fresh blood on his face.

“They rented a room and I didn’t hear a peep out of them all night. In the morning, they left,” the owner said.

“Together?” I asked.

“Yep.”

Devlen had said they parted company. Another lie. No surprise there. “Do you know where they were going?”

“Nope.”

“Have you seen the big Sandseed since then?”

“Nope.”

I thanked him for his time. We left.

“Now what?” Janco asked.

“Check the other inns. See if he stayed anywhere else. If that doesn’t work, we can ask around town and hope someone has seen him.”

Janco groaned. “This is going to take all day.”

We searched the entire morning and half the afternoon. All to no avail. No one remembered seeing Ulrick or Devlen.

Janco gestured to the row of buildings. “He could have locked him in any one of these houses, and paid someone to care for him. I hate to give up, but I think we’re searching for a raindrop in a storm. I vote we put the screws to Mr. Warper’s pressure points and squeeze the information from him.”

“You would have to hit the perfect spot,” I said.

“I’m a patient man.”

Dubious, I looked at him.

“All right, all right. So I have the patience of a two-year-old. Happy now?”

“No, but before we try Devlen there is one more place I want to go.”

“Where?”

“Scene of the crime. Perhaps Ulrick had returned to his sister’s glass factory. Gressa’s his only family in the area. The rest live in Booruby.”

“But you said she ran off when Ulrick confronted her about making those fake diamonds.” Janco rubbed the place where the lower half of his left ear used to be.

“I’m guessing she’s long gone, but maybe someone has seen him. Do you have any better ideas?”

“Yeah. Torturing Devlen. That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Janco followed me to Gressa’s glass factory. I imagined the storefront would be boarded up or a new business opened in its place. A colorful sparkle from the window display greeted us. Rows of elegant glassware lined the shelves. Perhaps a new glass artist had bought her studio.

I peered at the vases and bowls. The excellent craftsmanship and intricate designs were the unmistakable marks of Gressa’s vast talent. She had returned.

We entered the store. More of her pieces decorated tables and filled shelves. The centerpiece of her collection spanned over four feet—a delicate yet top-heavy, fan-shaped vase crafted with translucent orange glass defied gravity. The saleswomen wore silk tunics. Their serene smiles and sales pitch were as smooth as the glass they sold.

A tall woman glided toward us. Her expression didn’t change after her gaze swept our dusty travel clothes. Bonus points.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I need to talk to Gressa,” I said. No sense wasting time on niceties.

A tiny wince creased her saleswoman mask, but in a blink of the eye, it was gone. “I’m sorry. The Artist is on important business right now. Perhaps you would like to leave a message?”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“No. She is extremely busy. If you leave her a message, she might arrange a time for you to talk.”

“Might.” Janco huffed. “Which translates to not in a million years.”

The woman strained to keep her polite demeanor.

“This is regarding her brother, Ulrick. It’s very important,” I said.

“Brother?” The woman’s confusion appeared genuine. “She never mentioned a brother.”

“Is she here? Or do we need to search the place?” Janco’s threat was not idle.

The heart of the factory—the kilns and equipment needed to melt and work with molten glass—resided behind the storefront along with Gressa’s office.

Flustered, the woman gaped at Janco.

He turned to me. “We should search anyway. Ulrick could be hiding in the back.”

I led him to the door marked Employees Only. Alerted by the saleswoman’s attempts to stop us, the rest of the sales staff turned their attention our way. Unconcerned, Janco barged into the factory, trailing a line of protesting women.

“Let me know if you see anyone,” Janco said.

We wove through the heat surrounding Gressa’s four kilns, annealing ovens and various benches. The workers glanced at the parade, but kept spinning their rods to keep the molten glass from sagging toward the ground. My hands itched to help. It had been a long time since I’d worked with glass, and the need ached inside me.

The familiar hum of the kilns vibrated in my ears. Not all of the factory employees were in the middle of a project. A large man grabbed a punty iron. The five-foot-long metal rod made a formidable weapon. He ordered us to leave the factory.

Janco continued his search, ignoring the man. Using his picks, Janco popped the lock to Gressa’s mixing room and entered. I stayed by the door with my hands wrapped around the handles of my sais, keeping the man in sight.

Janco returned and headed toward Gressa’s glass-walled office. After another order to stop failed to work, the man swung his rod. I yanked my sais from my cloak and deflected his strike. The clang of metal pierced the air. I switched my sais to a defensive position. With the shafts along my forearms and the knobs up, I could attack or defend, depending on the circumstances.

Two things happened. One good and one bad.

The noise created instant silence, but then the sales staff moved away to give their fellow worker more room to maneuver. A few disappeared.

Janco nodded at me. “Keep him busy.”

Great. My opponent pulled back to bash me on the head. Perhaps barging in here hadn’t been the best idea. I flipped my sais out and crossed them into an X-shape, blocking the head shot. The force of his blow vibrated down my arms.

He jerked the rod back, but I followed, closing the distance between us. I stepped to within a foot of him and jabbed him hard in the solar plexus with the sais’s knobs. He stumbled, gasping for breath.

I caught a glimpse of another armed attacker and turned in time to stop a hit to my stomach.

Janco’s voice cut through the din. “No sign of Gressa or Ulrick. Now what?”

The factory workers abandoned their tasks and armed themselves with rods, jacks and battledores.

“Time to leave,” I shouted, but Janco was already engaged in a fight with two men. “Don’t hurt anyone.” I ducked a wild swing. The workers were strong, but unskilled at fighting. They also outnumbered us four to one.

Janco easily countered his opponents. He had almost cleared an escape path for us. Hope of a quick exit died when the town’s guards burst through the door.

Chapter 4

CONFUSION REIGNED. Between the town’s guards and the factory workers, we were overwhelmed. Janco and I admitted defeat and surrendered our weapons. Explanations about why we had forced our way into Gressa’s glass factory fell on deaf ears. It was obvious we didn’t belong there. As we were led to the guards’ headquarters, I hoped we would get a chance to tell our side of the story.

However, once we arrived at the station, we were stripped of our possessions, dumped into adjoining cells and left. The metallic clang of the lock echoed in my ears with a sickening familiarity. I counted the number of times I had been imprisoned and had to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Janco asked.

Three of the cell’s walls were stone, but iron bars lined the door and front wall, allowing me to talk with Janco. “Just thinking about how this time is a legitimate arrest versus some of my other incarcerations.”

“Ah, yes. I’m sure we’ll be charged with trespassing, breaking and entering and attempted armed robbery. They’ll probably add in resisting arrest and disorderly conduct for good measure.”

“Sounds like you’ve had experience.”

“Knowledge learned from my misspent youth. You gotta love the disorderly-conduct charge. It covers a wide range of behaviors, and, to my mother’s horror, I was determined to test the boundaries.” Humor laced his voice. “Speaking of bad behavior, I think I’ll wait until dark to pick the locks.”

“But they searched you and confiscated your picks.”

He laughed. “Let me tell you a story about a beautiful seamstress in Ixia. Dilana has a fine hand with needle and thread and a fine smile, too—all warm and caring. Although she found my request to be a bit…odd, she acquiesced. With her clever stitchery, she has sewn lock picks into all my clothing. They’re just a ripped seam away.”

“I’m glad you’re using your knowledge for good.”

“My mother’s ecstatic, and my new position earns enough money to pay for her hair dye.” He tsked. “Poor woman went gray at a very young age.”

Poor woman indeed.

“We should be here overnight,” Janco said. “The guards know who you are and are probably contacting the magicians at the Citadel as we speak. If they decide not to press charges, we’ll probably be escorted there. I don’t think the Council will trust me again to bring you home.”

“Who would press charges?” I asked.

“Gressa owns the factory, so it would be up to her.” He paused. “I thought you said she was a fugitive.”

“She was. Something must have happened.” I considered. Gressa had been helping Councilor Moon’s sister by crafting realistic yet fake diamonds from glass. The sister had been selling these fakes to finance her efforts to overthrow the Councilor.

The Sitian Council would honor a new Moon Councilor if she had gained her position through legitimate channels. The Moon Clan had a matriarchal government. The Councilor’s oldest daughter inherited the position, but there had been times in the past when the Moon Clan’s citizens had believed another sister was a better candidate for the job. They would stage a coup, and install their chosen with little to no bloodshed. The Council viewed this as the will of the people and accepted the new Councilor.

However, if the efforts to usurp the present Councilor originated from the dissatisfied sister, and if she used illegal means to purchase weapons and bribe the townspeople, then the Council wouldn’t accept her and they would help the ousted woman regain her rightful position.

Master Magician Irys Jewelrose and Yelena had been in Fulgor to keep an eye on developments, to learn who led the unrest and to protect the Councilor. She had been convinced she was targeted for assassination, an illegal act according to the Sitian Council.

Irys’s signature on my order to return to the Citadel meant she was no longer here. The crisis must have been averted. Otherwise, if the sister had gained power, the Council would have interfered. However, neither option felt right to me.

“Do you feel the…unease in the townspeople?” I asked Janco. “Or is it just my imagination?”

“It’s not your imagination. The people around here are as tight as bowstrings. I could probably play a tune if I brushed up against enough of them.”

“What about your interaction with the guards?”

“Wary and watchful. But that’s typical behavior. I’m surprised by how civil they’ve been to me, considering I’m Ixian.”

“It’s because we don’t automatically assume you’re a vile magician intent on harm like you Ixians do when meeting a Sitian.”

Janco harrumphed. “I don’t assume that”

“No?” Doubt colored my voice.

“I assume you’re a vile magician.”

“There’s no difference.”

“Yes, there is. I don’t assume your intentions are harmful. I know no matter what your intentions are, magic causes harm to someone somewhere at some time.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re the expert on Sitians. You should have been the one appointed liaison between Ixia and Sitia instead of Yelena. Unless it’s because the Commander and the Council have at least a crumb of intelligence between them.”

“Nasty, Opal. I must have hit a nerve. Perhaps it was my ‘magic causes harm’ remark. You have plenty of experience with that.”

“Shut up.”

“As you wish.”

I brooded in silence. Dozens of examples of positive results from using magic popped into my mind. Stormdancers tamed killer storms, healers saved lives, Story Weavers helped people and my glass messengers sped up communications between the clans. All good.

My thoughts drifted and without a window in my cell, I lost track of the time. I slept on the single piece of furniture in the room—a hard metal ledge. The jangle of keys woke me. A door slammed and two guards appeared in front of my cell.

“Come on,” the guard on the left ordered. He unlocked my door.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“You’re wanted for questioning.” He swung the bars wide.

His word choice failed to hearten me. “By whom?”

“Councilor Moon’s First Adviser. Turn around.”

I hesitated and his partner stepped inside. The larger man held a pair of manacles.

Holding my hands up, I said, “They’re not necessary. I’ll cooperate.”

“Good to know,” the man with the cuffs said. “Turn around.”

He loomed over me and I wondered if towns sought bullies to hire as guards on purpose or were they naturally drawn to the job. Or perhaps the mean disposition was a side effect of the position. If I had to deal with guarding criminals all day, I would probably be surly, too.

“It’s really not—hey!”

He spun me around and pushed me against the wall. Before I could draw another breath, my wrists were shackled together behind my back.

“Sorry. Orders.” He pulled me toward the door.

He didn’t sound sorry. I tripped over the threshold and the other man steadied me before I fell into the corridor. I glanced at Janco’s cell. He stood near the door.

“What about my companion?” I asked.

“The Ixian…” The guard’s mouth twisted as if he had a piece of gristle stuck between his teeth. “Stays here.”

“But I’ll be bored and lonely without her,” Janco said.

“Not my problem. I have my—”

“Orders.” Janco rolled his eyes. “Now I know where all the truly brainless Sitians can be found. Right here with all the wimpy Sitians.”

The bully stepped toward his cell.

“Nic, stop,” the guard warned. “He’s trying to bait you.”

“Listen to your friend, Nicky.” Janco smirked. “He’s going to save you from major embarrassment. You’ll never live down getting beaten by an Ixian.” He made shooing motions with his hand. “Now run along like a good little puppy dog.”

I bit my lip to keep from smiling as I remembered a lesson learned from Yelena’s brother Leif. Never underestimate the power of the pest.

Nic’s body tightened, and a slight tremor traveled through his muscles as if he fought the desire to strike out. He turned his back on Janco and strode down the corridor. An impressive display of restraint.

Disappointment creased Janco’s face.

Before the other guard could move, I said, “If you get too bored, think of a better ending to your quartz story. The rock-glowing-in-the-moonlight part didn’t make any sense. And having a meeting at midnight is such a cliché.”

“But that’s my favorite part,” Janco whined.

“Come on.” The guard wrapped his thick hand around my upper arm and led me down the corridor.

I glanced back at Janco and met his gaze. He nodded, signaling he understood my hint. If I didn’t return tonight, he would escape and meet me at Quartz and Moonlight’s stable around midnight. I smiled at the irony.

Of course, my plan included my own escape—a more doubtful prospect. The next time Janco and I had a few minutes together, I would ask him to show me how to pick a lock. It was a skill I hadn’t needed before my apprentice year at the Magician’s Keep, but, by the way trouble kept finding me these past two seasons, my lack of knowledge could be fatal.

The Masters should add lock picking to the Keep’s curriculum, but then again it could backfire on them. The Keep’s cells were warded against any magical escape, but I didn’t know how they protected against mundane methods. Guess I would know the answer in time. I shuddered, thinking about how upset the Council would be when I finally returned.

My escort believed I was cold, and he wrapped my cloak around my shoulders. Nic joined us as we exited the station and walked across the street to the Councilor’s Hall. The white dome of the expansive building could be seen from most places in the city. Fulgor was the capital of the Moon Clan’s lands, and housed all the government and military buildings for the Clan. Constructed from white marble streaked with green veins, the walls reflected the early-morning sunlight.

Wedged between the two guards, I could only glance at the quiet streets before we entered the Hall. There my companions handed me over to the Hall’s guards.

The lobby’s black-and-white tiles reminded me of a huge chessboard. I marveled at the glass chandelier hanging down from the dome high above the lobby.

Even though I had seen it before, the chandelier’s delicate ice-blue panels and snowflake pattern still awed me. And Gressa had designed and crafted the piece when she was only fifteen. Unfortunately, her ego matched her talent.

My new attendants led me up the grand staircase to the first floor and down a long hallway that ended in ornate double doors guarded by two soldiers. They opened the door without uttering a word and ushered us into a huge reception room. Padded leather armchairs lined the walls, books rested on dark mahogany tables and a vast ebony desk filled the center and almost blocked the door on the far wall. My boots sunk into the plush carpet and I worried about leaving dirt on the pale pink floral design.

The desk dwarfed the blond woman sitting behind it. She wrinkled her nose in disdain, but waved us toward the far door, saying, “She’s expecting you.”

I turned to my guard. “I thought you said I was being questioned by the First Adviser.”

“This is the FA’s office,” he said. “All our officials have offices befitting their stations.”

I suppressed a whistle. If this was the FA’s, what did Councilor Moon’s look like?

The interior office was as ornate as the reception area and twice as big. In the far right corner loomed another expansive desk and another woman. She faced the large windows with her back to us. Sunlight high-lighted her straight black hair and a feeling of familiarity tugged deep within me.

Stained-glass sun catchers refracted the sunlight, causing bright pinpricks of color to dot the walls and ceiling. Distinct glass vases decorated her neat desk.

“Gressa,” I said.

Ulrick’s sister turned around. Her resemblance to Ulrick was uncanny. Her long, graceful limbs, strong jaw, prominent cheekbones and eyes the color of grass on a sunny day matched his. Except this time, instead of being drawn to her because of the similarity, I was wary. Since Devlen switched bodies, seeing even a likeness of Ulrick’s face triggered a flinch.

She studied me with a cold, unwelcoming expression for a moment, then gestured toward a chair. “Sit down.”

I perched on the edge of an overstuffed maroon chair. She dismissed the guards to wait in the outer office without ordering them to unlock the manacles binding my wrists. At least she could have told them to remove my cloak. I sweated in the warm room.

Gressa picked up a glass letter opener and tapped it on her desk. “Why did you break into my factory?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“You could have sent me a message.”

“I thought you might be in hiding.”

“Really?” Her thin arched eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Why?”

“Because of making the fake diamonds and helping the Councilor’s sister.”

“Oh, that.” She waved her hand in the air as if her past was as insignificant as the dust motes floating in the sunlight. “Obviously, it worked out. I offered my services and my knowledge of Akako’s plans to Councilor Moon. After Akako was arrested, the Councilor offered me a position on her staff.”

“Akako?”

Gressa sighed with dramatics. “The Councilor’s sister.”

That explained why Yelena and Irys left Fulgor, but didn’t address the tension and worry emanating from the town’s citizens. Perhaps it was due to Gressa being the First Adviser—the second most powerful position in the Clan. No doubt she would use her status for her own advantage.

She played with the letter opener. The clear glass handle tapered to a thin, flat blade. The edge had been sharpened with a grinding wheel. “What was so important you wouldn’t take no as an answer, scaring my workers?”

“It’s about Ulrick.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but her demeanor turned colder. “Were you planning to explain why you had him arrested?”

“Yes, and to explain about…” How best to state the situation? I considered my words with care. “Ulrick has been tricked—”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Of course. He’s been tricked into falling in love with you. And now you’re claiming he’s really someone else. Oh, please.” She jabbed the letter opener into the air. “You have no proof.”

I closed my mouth. I knew this would be difficult, but I hadn’t expected such hostility. “Have you talked to the Council?”

“Yes. They said you’ve disobeyed direct orders, and I should send you to the Citadel in chains if I have to.”

“Have you communicated with Master Cowan?”

She leaned forward. “At length. Even she is doubtful.”

Icy tendrils wrapped around my heart. Goose bumps prickled my sweaty skin. “But Janco and Kade can vouch for me.”

“An Ixian and a missing Stormdancer?” She laughed. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Kade’s not missing. He stayed behind to calm the blizzards for the Ixians.”

“Are you talking about the same Ixians whose Commander murders magicians, and has declared using magic within his territory illegal and punishable by death? Do you know how ridiculous your story sounds? Are you delusional?”

I drew in a breath. “Talk to Ulrick. Ask him to blow you a vase. Devlen may have read Ulrick’s memories, but he can’t duplicate the skill learned from years of working with molten glass. You grew up with him. Spend an hour with him and you’ll know he’s not your brother.”

“There you go, Opal. Now you’re thinking rationally. Except for one thing.”

By the wicked delight flaming in her eyes, I knew this wouldn’t go my way.

“I already had a long conversation with my brother. Your claims are a complete fabrication.”

I hated it when I was right.

My guards escorted me to a “guest” room in the Councilor’s Hall. With no windows, a small bed and one chair, the room felt tighter than my cell. The door closed behind me with a thump and the lock clicked shut, casting me into darkness. At least the guards had removed my manacles. I rubbed my sore wrists, then felt for the bed. My eyes adjusted as I lay there. Weak candlelight flickered through the cracks around the door.

Gressa had informed me Councilor Moon wanted to talk to me before they escorted me home. She had just returned from the Citadel. Again I berated myself for not taking advantage of my time with Janco and learning how to pick a lock. He would be free in no time. I wondered how long he would wait for me at the stable. Even though escaping would be horrible in my I’m-really-a-good-person defense, my determination to find Ulrick still burned strong.

Janco and I had hit a dead end in our search for Ulrick in Fulgor. If an opportunity to escape happened and I was successful, I would head to Ognap. Devlen had provided the dubious information, but it was better than doing nothing. Every day that passed meant another day the stain of blood magic would spread.

Time dripped. Each second hung as if it were on the end of an icicle, fattening until it grew too big to hold on. Then splat—another second gone. A preview of my future once I returned to the Citadel.

When two guards arrived to guide me to the Councilor’s office, I didn’t complain about the manacles.

As expected, her office suite made Gressa’s seem ordinary in comparison. Instead of one assistant in the reception room, three women and two men bustled about. Soldiers stood at attention on each side of the double doors. They nodded to my companions. We entered the Councilor’s office.

The ceiling was two stories above my head. Thin stained-glass windows spanned the walls from top to bottom on my left and right. The room was long and narrow. We passed an oval conference table and a sitting area with couches and armchairs. Straight ahead a huge U-shaped desk had been pushed against a picture window with the opening toward me. The Councilor seemed to prefer to face the view while working.

“Councilor Tama,” my guard said.

The woman raised a hand, signaling us to wait. After a moment, she stood and approached us. With the late-afternoon sun behind her, her long blond hair appeared almost white.

Her smile died when she glanced at me. “Lieutenant, please release her.” The Councilor’s words were polite, but her tone said now. When the manacles came off, she said, “Leave us.”

“She could be a danger to you,” the lieutenant said.

Tama studied me. I suppressed the urge to squirm. She wore a white silk V-neck tunic embroidered with black half-moon shapes over a long skirt made from the same material. Delicate black leather sandals with silver crescents adorned her feet. My plain soiled clothes, bedraggled hair and muddy boots seemed an insult in comparison.

“Go wait by the door.” She shooed them away. “Come. Sit.” Tama pointed to a chair behind one of the long wooden tables of her desk.

I smoothed my hair, tucking the wild strands behind my ears before I complied.

“You don’t look like a troublemaker,” Tama said. She perched on the edge of the table. Her light blue eyes sparked with amusement.

I marveled at her pale skin. Her thin lips and tiny upturned nose resembled the Ixian people who lived near the northern ice sheet and not the darker skin tones of Sitia. She was also younger than I expected. I guessed her age to be around thirty.

“I’m not here to cause trouble, Councilor Moon,” I said in my most sincere voice. “I’m here because—”

“I know why you came to Fulgor. And I know you’ve accused Gressa’s brother of being a Daviian Warper in disguise. I read the order for your return before I signed it.”

I had forgotten about the message from the Council.

She watched my expression. “Do you even realize the panic you caused in the Council chambers by not obeying the order?”

“I…” This time I squirmed.

“Master Magician Zitora Cowan defended you when the news of your unusual kidnapping reached the Council. We weren’t happy about the rumors coming from Ixia, but she was able to convince us of your integrity up until you failed to appear. Did you even think about Zitora before you decided to dash off to Fulgor?”

“I…” I slumped in my seat.

“I didn’t think so.”

Tama Moon’s gaze rested on me and visions of being scolded by my mother rose. I refrained from hanging my head.

She crossed her arms. “Your claim about Ulrick was hard to believe before, but now it is impossible.”

“Why? The Warpers used blood magic in the past, they—”

“Gressa has vouched for him. She is his sister.”

“And she has admitted to helping your sister try to oust you. She can’t be trusted.” A subtle tightening of her posture and the increase of the tension in her arms warned me I had said the wrong thing.

“I trust her.” A slight tremor of anger touched her voice.

I chose my next words with the utmost care. “I realize it is my word against theirs. I’m not lying, Councilor Moon. Please send a message to Yelena Zaltana and ask her to come back to Fulgor. She will be able to confirm my claims.”

“The Soulfinder is in Ixia right now, dealing with the mess you left behind.”

The protest died in my throat. It wouldn’t help my case.

The Councilor settled in her chair. Piles of paper rested on the desk between us. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the edge. “Opal, you’re lucky I’m in Fulgor to attend to town business. I can give you a bit of advice. When you return to the Citadel, the Council will be hostile, but you have quite a bit of leverage.”

“Leverage?”

Tama nodded as if expecting my confusion. “Gressa said you had no clue. Think for a moment. What invaluable service do you and only you provide?”

So focused on finding Ulrick, I needed more than a moment to understand. “My glass messengers.”

“Correct. Do you realize how vital they’ve become to Sitia? To the Council? Almost instant communication with people far away. What used to take days now takes minutes. And only you can trap the magic inside them.”

Unfortunately, I couldn’t use them. Magicians with strong mental communication skills could “talk” to another magician through my messengers despite the distance as long as each held one in their hands. With use, the magic was depleted and a new one was needed.

The Councilor huffed. “That’s your leverage. If the Sitian Council and Master Magicians decide to lock you away in the Keep’s cells, then who is going to make more of those messengers?”

“We’ve been searching for another student.”

“Pah!” She flung her hand out. “No one right now is able to duplicate your talent. And they’ve become so crucial to the Council and Sitia, the Councilors would agree to anything you ask to keep them in production.”

“Oh! You mean, I could ask to be released or else I won’t make more.”

“Exactly! Now think about what you could do on a grander scale.”

“Why?”

She sighed. “Opal, what are your plans once you graduate from the Keep?”

Visit my family and Kade, but I didn’t think she referred to the short term. “I haven’t really thought about it yet.”

She gawked at me as if I were an idiot. I rushed to add, “It’s been a busy two seasons.”

Pressing her fingertips into her temples, she closed her eyes for a few seconds. “You’re sweet, Opal. Even with me encouraging you, you still can’t even contemplate selfish behavior.” Her posture relaxed and she leaned back in her chair. “I’m going to give you a hypothetical situation. And I’m telling you this, not as Councilor Moon, but as Tama Moon, the businesswoman.

“Let’s say I’m you in your current predicament. I would tell the Council and the Master Magicians to back off if they want more glass messengers. Then I would build a factory right here in Fulgor because I hear Moon Clan’s Councilor is partial to free enterprise. And I would sell my messengers to the magicians.”

“But…” I clamped down on reminding her about the Council’s fears.

“It wouldn’t be easy. The Master Magicians would worry about you, and send someone to bring you back to the Citadel where they could keep an eye on you. Frankly, I’m surprised the Masters even let you out at all. If you’re killed…” She paused.

“It won’t work. They won’t just send ‘someone,’ they’ll send a Master Magician and a whole platoon of soldiers. Besides, where would I get the money to build a factory?”

Her eyebrows rose a fraction and her lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

“Who told you?” I asked.

“Who do you think?”

“Devlen.”

“Ulrick,” she corrected. “He told his sister all about your new siphoning skills. The ones you didn’t tell Master Cowan about. The ones that will protect you against an attack from a master-level magician. The ones that transform magic into diamonds. You can build a whole city with the diamonds hidden in your saddlebags.”

I had wanted to tell Zitora in person. The Council already knew I could transform magic into objects like spiders and bees, but I’d waited to tell them the whole story. Better to hear the news from me and see my honesty, my willingness to cooperate—I stifled a wild laugh. Guess I ruined that image by disobeying their orders.

Councilor Moon waited for me to process her comments. The whole conversation with her felt unreal. She acted as if she wasn’t a member of the Council.

“Why are you telling me all this? Aren’t you afraid?”

“I’m not afraid of you. I have no magic for you to take, what can you do?”

I pulled a glass bee from the pocket of my cloak. Holding it between my finger and thumb, I showed it to her. “I could kill you before your guards could even react.”

“All right. Go ahead.” She laughed at my expression. “I know you won’t do it unless your life is in danger, or the life of someone you love. You’re a good person. I’m not scared of you, but I know the Council will lock you away, too terrified to see you as an asset. And I’m afraid you would let them!”

She drew a deep breath. “My opinions are in the minority. That’s why I’m trying to get you to think about your future. Really think about it. You have such potential, and Gressa is willing to support you. I would need to remain uninvolved to keep the other Councilors happy. And there is no reason they need to be told about your new skills—only a few people know and we can keep quiet. Show up at the Citadel, tell the Council what you intend to do and come back.”

Tama’s argument had merit. Kade had also suggested I keep the information to myself. The notion tempted me, but I couldn’t lie to the Council. If I trusted them and the Master Magicians to govern Sitia in a way that kept us all safe, then I would trust them to make the right decision regarding my own role in Sitia’s future.

Councilor Moon should have the same trust in the government, especially since she was a major part of it. Perhaps her selfish attitude had been the reason her sister, Akako, had wanted to overthrow her.

I opened my mouth.

“Don’t say anything right now,” she said. “You’re scheduled to leave for the Citadel tomorrow morning. You’ll have four travel days. Promise me you’ll think about it?”

I agreed, but as I was escorted back to the tiny “guest” room, I knew my decision wouldn’t change. After all, I’ve had, since I left Kade in the north, almost twenty-six days to contemplate all the pros and cons. Like Tama said, I was a good person. I would do the right thing.

But it didn’t mean I would do it now. Once I reached the Citadel, the chances of helping Ulrick would disappear. The guards hadn’t manacled my wrists. My cloak remained wrapped around my shoulders. I clutched a glass spider in each fist, waiting for the perfect opportunity to surprise my guards and run away.

Unfortunately, people filled the hallways, rushing to finish their last tasks before going home. Shoved and locked back into the room, I rested on the bed. Later tonight, when the Councilor’s Hall was empty, I would see if my spiders knew how to pick a lock. If not, there were other ways to trick the guards into opening my door.

I fell asleep plotting my escape.

A metallic snap invaded my dreams. Faint torchlight surrounded the figure of a man in the doorway. I sat up and prepared to crush the spiders in my palms.

“Come on,” Devlen said with an urgent whisper.

I wilted. My spiders wouldn’t work on him.

“You are not safe here.” He hissed.

“Safer than with you,” I said.

He muttered an oath, grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. His hand slid to my wrist as his fingertips found the pressure points. I braced as the memory of incredible pain replayed in my mind. Not again.

“Hell.” Devlen released me. “Follow me or go on your own. Just do not stay here.” He turned, peeked out into the hallway and strode away.

Chapter 5

NOT REMAINING LOCKED in the “guest” room had been my plan all along. I’d been in the Councilor’s Hall before, but I doubted I could waltz out the front door without raising any alarms. Instead, I followed Devlen.

The guard stationed at my door lay in a heap on the floor. I touched his neck. A strong pulse throbbed. Thank fate.

Stepping over him, I hurried down the hallway as fast as I could without making too much noise. Devlen disappeared around a corner. Only one torch lit the corridor. Its weak light struggled against the darkness.

When I reached the turn, I almost ran into him. He placed a finger to his lips and gestured for me to wait. A glow at the end of the hall brightened, illuminating an intersection. Faint voices echoed on the smooth marble walls. Two people strode into sight. One held a blazing torch. They conversed in tight whispers, arguing at low volume.

I steeled myself as they turned down our hallway. Devlen grabbed my hand and pulled me back around the corner. We pressed against the wall. If they came our way, we would be seen. If they kept straight, we should be fine.

Their shadows arrived before they did, and snatches of the two men’s conversation reached me.

“…doesn’t matter. She’s the Councilor…”

“…acting…we can’t trust…”

We froze as they crossed the intersection, but the intensity of their argument claimed all their attention.

I relaxed until I realized Devlen hadn’t released my hand. Before I could pull away, he drew me forward. Our connection made ghosting through the Hall easier. Whenever Devlen paused to listen or to wait for a late-night worker to clear an area, he signaled me by squeezing my hand.

We exited the building through the kitchen door, which led us to an empty alley. Our footsteps ricocheted in the silence, and I fought the urge to tiptoe. Devlen strode without stopping. He slowed after we traveled a few blocks from the Councilor’s Hall, but kept my hand in his firm grip.

When I tried to yank it away, he said, “At this time of night, it would be better if we are seen holding hands, adding to the illusion we are lovers going for a moonlit stroll.”

I snorted. “Who would see us? And why would they care?”

“The Moon Clan soldiers are out in force tonight. A prisoner has escaped from jail earlier this evening.”

Janco. He probably had led the guards on a merry chase through the city just to pass the time. Or perhaps Devlen referred to himself? No. From what Tama said, no one believed me about the switched souls.

“When were you released?” I asked.

“Yesterday morning. In fact, you have spent more time in a Fulgor cell than I.”

“Wonderful,” I snapped.

We reached a main street. A few citizens hustled over the cobblestones. They kept their gazes down and shoulders hunched as if walking into a stiff wind. But the cooling air remained calm and the half moon’s sharp edge gleamed in the clear night sky.

Guards patrolled the streets. We passed a few who squinted at us. Each time, Devlen would smile at me, pretending to be in the midst of a pleasant conversation.

“Do not stare, Opal. Your attention should be focused on me. We are having a lovely chat.”

“Okay. Now you can tell me why I needed to leave the Councilor’s Hall.”

“My sister, Gre—”

“Gressa is not your sister.” The words growled from my throat.

He held up his free hand. “No sense arguing. This is important. The Councilor told Gressa you had no intention of using your leverage with the Council.”

“I promised I would think about it.”

“I am sure you would. But we all know you will comply with the Council’s decision.”

“I disobeyed their order,” I retorted. He had called me an accommodating doormat before. Although I had proven him wrong and freed myself and Kade, my current situation didn’t support my argument. I avoided contemplating my current predicament. It wouldn’t be good for my mental stability.

“I was quite proud of your defiance. But it is obvious that you will not turn rogue and stay in Fulgor. Gressa knows this, as well, and she is intent on keeping you here.”

“It wouldn’t work. She can’t force me to make the glass messengers.”

I wanted to ignore Devlen’s expression. His raised eyebrow implied she damn well could. He would only need a few hours.

“How would she explain about my failure to return to the Citadel and the fact she has my glass animals?”

“For your disappearance, she will report you have escaped. As for the messengers, she could claim her brother has learned how to craft them, and that is why you are so intent on discrediting him…me.” He shot me a sly smile.

“That’s ridiculous.” However, knowing Gressa, I’d bet she could pull it off. And Devlen hadn’t released my hand. I scanned the street. Was he leading me to a place Gressa had prepared for my…stay? A vision of me chained to a kiln flashed through my mind. What happened to all those guards on the street?

Brilliant plan, yell for help from soldiers who work for the Councilor and her top aide. I almost groaned aloud. The unconscious guard next to my room would be used as proof of my escape. This quiet late-night stroll wouldn’t attract notice. I’d aided in my own kidnapping. Idiot wasn’t a strong enough word for me.

Devlen chuckled. “Just figuring it out?”

“Yep.”

“It would have been a neat trick.”

Would have been? Confused, I remembered he had grabbed my wrist, planning to use force, but dropped my arm. Part of the act?

“Opal, look.” He pointed to the end of the street. Quartz and Moonlight’s stable was a block away. “Your Ixian is waiting inside.” Devlen glanced at the sky. “Midnight, or close enough. Did you choose the time for dramatic reasons?”

“I improvised. How did you overhear our conversation in the jail?”

“Once the annoying Ixian escaped, the guards reported everything to the Councilor’s Aide, with whom I happened to be at the time. I figured out your clues, but Gressa did not.”

“Why are you helping me? You obviously intend to keep masquerading as Ulrick. With me…out of the way, it’ll be easier for you.”

He stopped and turned toward me. “Gressa is cunning and smart. She knows what happened to her brother, and has ensured my cooperation by threatening to expose and arrest me. Since I do not wish to be incarcerated, I will follow her orders.” Releasing my hand, he stepped back. “If you are gone, then I will not be ordered to force you to make messengers for her. I do not want to hurt you ever again.”

“You have to come with us,” I said. “Once we find Ulrick, we’ll need you.”

“If Ulrick wants to switch back to his body, bring him here. I am working for Gressa. She has given me a staff position.”

I muffled an hysterical cackle. Devlen a government employee while I remained a fugitive? At this point, I couldn’t imagine how my life could get any more distorted and unreal. “Why would you stay here? Why not run away before she can arrest you?”

His gaze searched the street and he tilted his head back as if scenting the wind. “Something is…odd. I am worried you might be in more danger. If I stay here, I am in a better position to help you.”

“You’ll risk getting captured for a vague feeling?”

He shrugged. “I need something to do while you search for Ulrick.”

“You’re that confident he won’t want to switch back?”

“Yes. And when you finally realize the truth, make sure you stop by Fulgor to apologize to me.”

“Apologize to you!” I almost screamed the words.

“I already apologized to you. Travel safe, Opal. I am missing you already.” Devlen spun on his heel and strode away from the stable. When he reached the end of the street, he glanced back, flashed me a smile and disappeared around a corner.

I hurried toward the stable as my thoughts whirled. Devlen was an evil Daviian Warper, who’d tortured, kidnapped and tricked me. Even though he could no longer access the power source, he remained dangerous. His limited knowledge of the Kirakawa ritual could be taught to another. Or he could try to reclaim his powers. I didn’t know enough about my own new abilities to determine if anyone’s blood would return his magic or if it had to be mine.

Ever since I drained him of power, he had been…different. No longer driven by his addiction to blood magic, he acted content. Acted being the key word. With his ability to sweet-talk his way out of any situation, and with his ease in living in Ulrick’s skin, I would be a fool to trust him. Too bad being a fool was my best skill.

When I reached the stable, Janco had already saddled the horses. Quartz nickered and pushed her muzzle into my chest. I scratched her behind the ears.

Janco tied a couple of feed bags onto Moonlight’s saddle. “How ja escape? I was all set to launch a rescue. A damsel-in-distress story is worth at least a couple of free ales at the pub.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Devlen could tell that tale, though I didn’t think he would. If Gressa discovered he had helped me, he would be in serious trouble. An anonymous message to Gressa would complicate his new life. I grinned.

“Do you have juicy details?” Janco asked. “Do tell!”

“Later. Aren’t you worried about riding out of here? They’re searching for you.”

Janco mounted Moonlight with one graceful movement. Impish delight lit his eyes. “They have me cornered on the north side of town. They believe I’m heading toward Ixia. We have another hour or so before the game is up.”

“How did you manage that?”

“Oh, a little silver here, a little misdirection there. All fun.”

After checking my saddlebags, I swung up on Quartz. Her ears perked up and the left one swiveled back to hear me.

“Where to?” Janco asked.

“East toward Ognap.”

We directed the horses, walking through the deserted streets. Even without horseshoes, the thud of their hooves on the stones sounded loud.

Janco leaned forward and stroked Moonlight’s black neck. “Quieter if you can,” he whispered. Both horses slowed. “Thanks.”

Surprised, I shot him a questioning look.

“Sandseed horses are very intelligent, and he’s one beautiful, bright boy.”

“And he allowed you to saddle him!” I said in an excited whisper. “How?”

He shrugged. “I introduced myself, and told him what was going on. Guess meeting the greatest swordsman in Ixia awed him into submission.”

“A swordsman who can’t handle a horsewhip. He probably felt sorry for you.”

He tsked. “Low blow.” Then smiled. “I’ve taught you well.”

We spent the rest of the night in silence. The tight row houses of Fulgor soon transformed into clusters of buildings. I steered Quartz onto the main east-west road. When we reached farmland and marble quarries interspersed with forest, we stopped to rest.

As we set up a makeshift camp in the woods and hidden from the path, I explained my escape.

“Devlen? Why?” Janco asked.

“He said he didn’t want to hurt me again.”

“Ha! He’s been playing the reformed man since we blasted him up on the ice. Don’t believe him, Opal. I’ve seen criminals use it to be released, but most of them are back to their old tricks in no time.”

“What about you? You’re reformed.”

“Not me. I just switched sides. I’m doing the same stuff—lock picking, sneaking around, tricking and spying. Except now I’m doing it for Valek and the Commander. And it has more…meaning. When I was a kid, it was just a challenge. I didn’t steal, but I couldn’t resist a locked door. And I wanted to get caught—just to see if I could escape the holding cells. Drove everyone nuts.” He smiled at the memory. “I even broke into the jail, past five guards with none the wiser.” But then his humor evaporated and he rubbed the scar spanning from his right temple to his ear. “Ended badly. That’s how I have firsthand knowledge that you don’t ever believe the reformed-man act.”

He bustled about our small camp lost in his own thoughts. I yawned and shivered in the predawn air. The horses munched on their grain. I wondered if I could train Quartz to sound an alarm like Leif had trained Rusalka, who was also a Sandseed horse.

“Should we take turns guarding?” I asked.

“No.” Janco checked on Moonlight, running his hand along the sleek coat. “Moonlight will let us know if someone comes too close. Right, boy?”

The horse nickered as if in agreement.

“That’s seems too easy,” I said.

“Not everything in life has to be hard. Horses are prey animals. If they notice anything strange, they’ll alert the herd.”

“And we’re the herd.”

“Yep. Their sense of smell and hearing are far superior to ours. So you can sleep in peace. No worries.”

But what about the old worries?

“Who names a town Ognap?” Janco asked.

“It was probably named for a famous Cloud Mist Clan member.” I tried not to sigh.

After sleeping most of the morning, we had saddled the horses and headed east toward the Emerald Mountains. Ognap was nestled in the foothills.

“Ixia is far simpler,” he said. “Military Districts and Grid Sectors for location names. No weird town names. No bizarre clothing or lack of clothing. We have uniforms, so when you meet someone new, you know exactly who they are and what they do. No guessing if they’re going to zap you with their magic.”

Janco’s homesickness drove me crazy. He had been waxing nostalgic over Ixia the past two hours. The trip to Ognap would take another four days, and I didn’t know if I could stand his mooning that long. If we cut through the Avibian Plains, we could shorten the trip. Being Sandseed horses, Moonlight and Quartz could use their special gust-of-wind gaits, which only worked in the plains, but the Sandseed Clan’s protective magic would convince Janco we were lost and being watched.

I remembered the panic I had felt when I first entered the plains. My sense of direction failed and I knew warriors waited to ambush me. Leif introduced me to the protective magic. Since the Zaltanas were the Sandseed’s distant cousins, Leif and his sister, Yelena, were welcome in the Avibian Plains.

If the protection recognized me, I would be fine, but Janco wouldn’t. No sense risking it for a few days of peace.

“…Clan. Opal, are you listening to me?”

“Sorry. Could you repeat it?”

He slumped his shoulders in an exaggerated gesture of aggravation. “What’s the Cloud Mist Clan like?”

“They have a few small towns along the foothills of the mountains, but most of them prefer to live either up on the mountain or under it.”

“Under?”

“Mines. There are a ton of them. In fact, I’m surprised the whole mountain chain hasn’t collapsed. They mine precious stones, jade, ore and coal, both white and black.” I used the special white coal in my kiln. It burned hot enough to melt sand into glass and was cleaner than the black variety. It also cost more, but it was worth every extra copper.

“No diamonds. Not yet anyway,” I added.

“Pity the only deposits have been found in the northern regions of Ixia,” Janco said. “Otherwise that whole business with Councilor Moon’s sister wouldn’t have happened.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped her. Akako would have just found another way to finance her coup. Selling Gressa’s fake diamonds as real was the fastest way for her to raise money.”

Diamonds were expensive and hard to find in Sitia, and the Commander kept the imports to us to a minimum. Which made sense when I considered his aversion to magic. Diamonds held the unique property of being able to enhance a magician’s power. Enough of them together could provide a significant boost, and since Sitia and Ixia’s relationship remained on unstable ground despite Yelena’s efforts, the Commander wouldn’t want his potential enemy to increase their powers.

I wondered about the diamonds I had created. Would they augment a magician’s magic or not? They didn’t work for me. As my father would say, only one way to find out. The desire to be home, sitting in my father’s laboratory and discussing glass, chewed my heart. Simpler times and simpler problems.

“How about the people? Are they friendly?” Janco asked.

The only Cloud Mist Clan member I knew was Pazia. She was Vasko Cloud Mist’s daughter. Vasko had discovered a bountiful vein of rubies and was one of the richest men in Sitia.

I met Pazia during our first year at the Magician’s Keep. Her powers had been the strongest in our class, and rumors she might become a master-level magician circulated even then. She hated me from the start and I endured four years of torment from the woman. In our fourth year, First Magician Bain Bloodgood assigned her to help with one of my magical-glass experiments. Pazia attacked me with an illusion of lethal Greenblade bees.

Channeling her magic into a glass orb in my hands, I transformed her illusion into glass bees and inadvertently drained Pazia of almost all her power. Despite the fact she aimed every bit of her strength at me, I should have stopped, but I was determined not to let her get the best of me again. My ego and pride had cheated Sitia out of a potential Master Magician. We only had three.

At least the incident hadn’t been a total disaster. Pazia and I settled our differences and now she worked in the Keep’s glass factory, creating intricate vases decorated with precious stones. Wealthy Sitians had been buying them as fast as Pazia could produce them.

“Opal, hello? Where ja go?” Janco waved a hand, snapping me from my reverie.

“Just thinking about the only Cloud Mist I know, and she’s not representative of the entire clan. I’ve heard they’re friendly if you’re staying in one of their towns, but they won’t let anyone visit the mines. The people who live up in the mountains tend to be very insular. They say they know a few routes across the Emerald Mountains. The Sitian Council sent an expedition with a Cloud Mist guide a few years back, but they turned around, claiming it was too cold and too hard to breathe. The high-mountain clan members also claim a vast desert is on the eastern side of the mountains. A waste-land with no end in sight. Has anyone in Ixia climbed over the…what do you call the chain in the north?”

“The Soul Mountains.”

“Interesting military designation.” I teased him. Not everything in Ixia had a number.

Janco frowned. “The mines have the proper codes.” He scratched his goatee as he thought. “The Soul range is thicker in the north. We’ve had a few groups try to summit them, but they never returned. The winds are nasty in the higher elevations. Do you remember how strong an Ixian blizzard is?”

I nodded, remembering the horrible keening and bone-shattering cold.

“Well, it’s twenty times worse in the mountains.”

Shivering, I pulled my cloak tight. The late-afternoon sunshine warmed the land, but I hated being cold. All those years working in my family’s glass factory had gotten me used to the heat. Eight kilns running nonstop kept the brick building steaming hot.

“Has anyone tried skirting them to the north?” I asked.

“Suicide. The mountains run right into the northern ice sheet. Between the icy temperatures and the snow cats you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

A finger of fear traced my spine as the image of bloodstained snow formed. Fierce, cunning and with heightened senses, a snow cat was impossible to hunt. They smelled, heard or saw a person well before the hunter spotted them. With their white coats blending into the ice sheet, the sole warning of an impending attack was movement. By then it was too late.

One man held the honor of killing a snow cat. The Commander of Ixia. Even Valek, the Commander’s chief of security and assassin, couldn’t make that claim. Yet he’d managed to hide the Fire Warper’s glass prison in a snow cat’s den. Interesting.

At least the prison would remain hidden. No one else would risk sneaking by seven snow cats to retrieve the Warper’s soul. It would be suicide.

Four days of travel with Janco proved to be an extended exercise in patience. His curiosity focused on everything and everyone. Nonstop commentary about the strangeness of Sitia flowed from his mouth, and he enjoyed arguing. He found a fault with every issue, and we even debated on the merits or lack of merits of dust.

At least I learned a few self-defense tactics and he promised to teach me how to pick a lock in Ognap.

We reached the edge of the Emerald Mountains on the morning of the fourth day. The rolling terrain painted with lush greenery spread out before us like a rumpled quilt. Farms dotted the mounds, and clusters of buildings occupied the cracks. One large grouping extended along a narrow valley and climbed the hills to each side. Ognap, the Cloud Mist Clan’s capital.

The snowcapped Emerald Mountains loomed beyond the foothills, stretching toward the sky. Impressive.

For once, Janco remained quiet. But as we drew near the town’s limits, he stopped Moonlight. “With your glass messengers in every city, the details about our escape have probably been sent to each one. So there’s a chance the town’s guards will be watching for us. We could do one of two things. Either go in via the main road separately or circle around and find another way in.” Janco glanced at the sky. “And we should go in after dark.”

Although the thought of being alone tempted me, I decided we should stay together. My fighting skills needed to be much better for me to feel confident in them. Devlen had bypassed my sais with ease even though I had three years of lessons at the Keep. More emphasis on training and self-defense went into the final year of the curriculum. The final year I was currently missing.

We found an isolated glade to wait for the sun to set. To help pass the time, I challenged Janco to a match.

He jumped to his feet, his sword at the ready. “The glass warden isn’t bor…ing. Her sais may sing, but I am the king.”

“Warden and boring don’t rhyme.” I set my feet into a fighting stance with my sais in a defensive position. The guard was U-shaped and flared toward the weapon’s point. I balanced one arm of the guard between my thumb and index finger, which lay along the hilt. The rest of my fingers curled around the other side of the guard.

“You try and find a word that rhymes with warden.”

I tried, but Janco attacked and all my concentration focused on his lightning-fast strikes and quick parries. He won every match. Despite his tendency to lapse into extreme smugness, he guided my efforts to defend myself and I learned quite a bit from him.

During a break, he said, “Not bad. Not good, either. You need to practice every day for four hours.”

“Four hours!” My arms ached and sides heaved after just an hour.

He grinned. “The Commander’s soldiers run for two hours every morning, and practice drills every afternoon. When you’re new, practice time lasts six hours and when you’re an old soul like me, practice lasts about two hours. Keeps the skills sharp.”

“Old soul.” I laughed. “You’re thirty.”

He stroked his goatee. White whiskers peppered the black. “It’s not the years, it’s the experience.” He paused. His eyes held a distant gleam as if seeing into his past. “My first practice was a shock. I was a cocky smart aleck—”

“Was?”

“Be quiet. I’m telling a story here. I easily bested my fellow trainees, but the trainers unarmed me in record time. And the Weapons Master was impossible to beat. He would just look at me, and my practice sword would fly from my hand.”

I stifled my dubiousness over Janco’s exaggerations.

He inspected the blade of his sword. “It irked me. Big-time. I started to practice eight hours a day and learned counterstrikes, attacks and strategies from anyone who would teach me. I trained with every sword we had. Broadswords, rapiers, short swords and sabers. Plus, I learned how to use a knife and unarmed combat.”

“And?”

“He kept winning, but each match lasted a little bit longer. Until…”

He waited for me to prompt him. “Until?”

“I discovered my rhythm. My footwork was horrible, but one day it clicked and I started letting my instincts guide my actions. You know those little clues an opponent makes before they move?”

“No. I’m usually too focused on the weapon.”

“A mistake. Here.” He slid his feet into a fighting stance and pointed his rapier toward me. “Get ready. Now watch my blade.”

I concentrated on the silver shaft. He lunged. The tip of his blade stopped an inch from my chest before I reacted.

“Now watch my eyes.”

I met his light brown gaze. Once again he shot past my defenses.

“Now watch my hips.”

A slight hitch of movement alerted me and I stepped back. Countering, I blocked his blade with a clang and deflected it past my body.

“See?” he asked.

“Yes! Are there more?”

“A few. Those clues allowed me to concentrate more on my opponent’s strategy and find their fighting cadence. Beginners are easy because they’ll do the same series of moves over and over, while experts will keep changing it or will lull you into a rhythm and bang! Switch it up.” Appreciation gleamed on his face as he stabbed the air. “It took me well over a year to discover the Weapon Master’s dance. I had been making up rhymes in my mind to help me with my footwork, but for that last match with the Master, I recited them aloud. He hated that! Especially since my rhymes harmonized to his attacks. And anger makes you sloppy.”

“You beat him?”

“Yep.” He danced a victory jig.

“What happened after?”

He stopped. “I was transferred to the Commander’s guard, where I met Ari.” Huffing in amusement, he continued, “Since I beat the Weapons Master, I arrived with a cocky confidence.” Janco held up a hand before I could comment. “I know, I know. Hard to believe. One match with the big brute knocked the swagger from my step as well as knocking me unconscious.” He rubbed his jaw. “Then there was Valek with his super assassin skills and Maren with her bow staff. I had much more to learn. Endless practice ensued, and now here I am, just a humble average guy.”

“Your humility is inspiring.”

He ignored my sarcasm. “I endeavor to be a good role model.”

“Shame your training didn’t include fighting a big man named Ox armed with a horsewhip.”

“Those are fighting words.” He launched an attack and I scrambled to counter.

Chapter 6

AFTER THE SUN SET, Janco and I packed our supplies and headed for Ognap. We found a small goat path south of the town and entered the city through a side street. About half the size of Fulgor, the town’s business centered on gemstones. Once mined from underneath the mountains, the stones arrived in Ognap to be cleaned, faceted, categorized and polished before being sold or traded for goods.

Armed guards accompanied the caravans and watched the gemstone factories. Large barracks had been built on the east side of town to house them.

Torches blazed along the main boulevard as loud groups of citizens hustled between pubs under the watchful gaze of the town’s security force. Shops and market stands buzzed with commerce. By the hum in the air, I guessed the evening’s activities had just begun. Miners arrived for a few days’ rest, bringing stories of rich veins and huge stones. They spent their wages, then returned to work.

Janco and I avoided the more popular areas and checked into the Tourmaline Inn. The innkeeper, Carleen, rented us two single rooms—all she had left—and served us a wonderful beef stew and sweet berry pie. The explanation for the inn’s name hung around her neck. A beautiful heart-shaped pink tourmaline rested on her broad chest.

She stroked the stone often, especially when speaking of her late husband.

“Pink.” Janco spat in disgust when she left to help another customer. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

The common room’s decorations tended toward fluffy pink and soft. Hearts crafted from wood, stone and glass lined the shelves, and bright paintings of flowers hung on the walls.

I stifled a chuckle when Janco entered his room. His polite smile strained to hide his dismay at the mountain of pillows heaped on his bed.

“One of my favorite rooms,” Carleen said. “It has a wonderful view of the mountains.” Her fingertips brushed her pendant. She wrinkled her petite nose when she glanced at Janco. “There’s a bathhouse across the street—you need to make use of it before retiring for the evening.”

Carleen ignored his reaction and unlocked the next door for me. “It has my best mattress, sweetie.” It was identical to Janco’s. “Make sure you go along with your friend to the bathhouse.” She waggled her fingers in farewell, and hustled back downstairs.

Janco leaned on the threshold of my door with his face creased in annoyance. “Did she just—”

“Yes.”

“But I don’t—”

“Yes. You do. We both stink.”

“Well, I’m not—”

“Yes. You are.”

He huffed. “You won’t let—”

“No. No complaining. Let’s go.” I grabbed a clean shirt and pants from my saddlebags.

“Well, she could have handled it better,” he grumped.

“No. She couldn’t.”

He settled into a sulky silence as we visited the bathhouse.

Janco might not’ve appreciated the inn’s excessive pillows, but after so many nights spent on the hard ground, I luxuriated in the bed, sleeping well past dawn. I snuggled deeper into the mattress until someone knocked on the door. Covering my ears failed to block the insistent rapping.

“Come on, Opal! We’re burning daylight,” Janco called through the wood.

I yelled for him to go away and the noise stopped. A moment of peace before the door swung open.

“Holy snow cats, did you sleep with all those pillows?” Janco asked.

Despite my cries of protest, he pulled them away and swept the blankets back. “Let’s go.”

With the utmost reluctance, I followed Janco outside. We walked from inn to inn, asking if anyone had seen Ulrick or the two Warpers that Devlen spoke of. No one recognized the descriptions. We tried the pubs and taverns next and then the stables. Nothing.

“What’s next?” Janco asked.

“The barracks. The Warpers could have gotten jobs guarding the gemstone caravans or even be working in the mines.”

“They could. And Devlen could have lied and there is no one here to find.”

I agreed. “Or they could have left. We need to make sure either way.”

Janco rubbed his scar. “Asking questions won’t work in the barracks. Guards for hire are usually ex-soldiers. They tend to stick together and protect each other. I’ll wait until dark and do a little reconnaissance.”

“And I can visit the pubs again and see if they show up.”

“What if we don’t find them?”

Good question. “We should check the mines, but they’re off-limits and the security is impossible to breach.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Janco said. He practically drooled with gleeful anticipation.

“The Cloud Mist Clan has been mining precious stones for ages. Thieves and their own workers have been trying to steal them for ages. They have a complicated network of security. You can’t just go in there and have a look around.”

“Ah! A challenge.”

Nothing I said dimmed his enthusiasm. In fact, it had the opposite effect. I hoped we found the Warpers before then.

After dinner, I suffered through Janco’s lecture on safety.

“Make sure you have your spiders with you,” he said.

“Janco, I—”

“Stay in well-lit areas, and, if you see the Warpers, don’t confront them. Just follow them and we’ll talk to them together. If you run into trouble, go to the town’s guards. Better to be arrested than killed. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He remained stern.

“What? I agreed.”

“Next time try it without the sarcasm.”

We left the inn together. Wearing all black, Janco melted into the shadows. I continued along the main street. Torches blazed and groups of people strolled. Even at this hour merchants called prices and the rapid exchange of haggling filled the air.

Scanning faces, I wandered in the busy downtown area. I stopped to peruse one seller’s glasswares, looking for Ulrick’s unique style. He would need money to support himself. None of the vases popped with his magic. However, I found a beautiful statue of a Sandseed horse. A red heart nestled within its clear glass chest.

I held the horse in my hand. A faint throbbing pulsed through my fingertips as if the heart beat inside. The cause of the vibration could be from magic or from my imagination.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” the merchant asked.

“Yes. Do you know how the artist managed to keep the red glass’s shape?” The first gather of molten glass could be shaped and colored, but, when another layer of glass is gathered around the shape, the heat would melt the shape, leaving the color behind.

“It isn’t glass. It’s a ruby.”

That could explain the pulse. When I touched diamonds, they would either flash hot or cold and a vision of where they were mined filled my head. Perhaps rubies vibrated.

The merchant continued, “And not just any ordinary ruby. It’s a Vasko ruby. The best of the best. Each stone comes with an authenticity seal from Vasko Cloud Mist himself!”

Perhaps only Vasko rubies throbbed. I thought of Pazia. Her family owned the Vasko mine. I would have to ask her if I could touch one.

“The horse is eight golds, but, for you, I’ll sell it for six.”

I shook my head. Too expensive for me. I only had one gold and a few silvers left in my pocket. “Do you have any more?”

“A few.” The merchant bent under his table and brought out a swan, a dog and a cat. All with ruby hearts. All crafted by the same hand.

I examined the dog and felt its pulse. “Vasko rubies?”

“Of course. And since you seem so enchanted, I’ll sell you the dog for five golds.”

“Do you know who made these?”

A furtive expression settled on the merchant’s face. “No.”

“I don’t want to bypass your business. I can’t afford any of them. I’m a glassmaker.” I pulled a few of my spiders from my pocket and showed him them. “I just wanted to see if I know the artist.”

He scrutinized the spiders with reluctance. “I don’t know his name or know if he is the artist. I buy the statues and the seals from him, then resell them. I’ll give you one silver for each of your spiders. They’re very lifelike.”

“They’re not for sale.” I returned them to my pocket. So far, they broke open only for me, but there could be another magician with my skills. “Does the man come every day?”

“No. Every couple of days or so he stops by with a new batch.”

“When’s the last time he came?”

The merchant eyed me with suspicion. “Why is it so important?”

I downplayed my interest. “He could be a friend of mine. I haven’t seen him in years and it’s probably not him. He’s a tall, muscular man with long black hair. His eyes are hard to forget. They’re diamond-shaped with thick eyelashes. He also has a scar on his throat.” I pointed to my neck below my left ear.

The merchant shrugged. “The guy looks like a Sandseed warrior to me.” He huffed in amusement. “Don’t know about his eyes. He’ll probably be by in the next couple of days. Do you want me to tell him you’re here?”

I thought fast. A Sandseed warrior could be one of the Warpers. “No. It’s not him. My friend’s from the Greenblade Clan. Thanks for your time.” I hurried away.

Sticking to my plan, I searched the pubs and taverns for Ulrick and the Warpers. The unsanctioned Daviian Clan had been members of the Sandseed Clan before forming their own group. Called Vermin by the Sandseeds, the Daviians used blood magic to create powerful Warpers and they tried to take control of the Sitian Council.

The Council believed the Vermin and Warpers had been exterminated, but a few had escaped.

On my way back to the Tourmaline Inn, I stopped at various stands and looked for more heart-beating statues. A few merchants carried the glass animals. The general impression of the seller remained the same. A Sandseed warrior.

A pink sparkle flashed at me a block before the inn—another stand full of jewelry, and pink tourmalines dominated the display.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” the merchant asked. “Three golds for any item. It’s the best price in town.” She held up a ring with a heart-shaped stone. In fact, multiple items contained heart-shaped tourmalines.

I glanced down the street. Carleen would have to walk this way to the market. “You know your customers.”

She smiled. “The inn lady loves her pinkies. It matches her personality and gives her joy when she wears it. Each person has a certain gemstone that…calls to them. When they wear their special stone, they’re empowered!” She thrust her fists into the air as if drawing strength from the sky.

Intrigued, I asked, “How do you know which one is for them?”

“Give me your hand.”

Dubious, I held it out. She sandwiched it between her warm palms. Her smooth skin contrasted with my roughened and burn-scarred fingers. A ripple of heat traveled up my arm. She closed her eyes. The temperature inside me intensified. A red-hot finger pierced my heart. I gasped and yanked my hand back.

She studied my face with amazement. “My goodness, you have a conflicted heart. It’s covered with storm clouds. But don’t you worry.” She patted my arm. “There was a flash of clarity and I saw your true stone.” She rummaged around her table. “I only have one, but I can get more.” Picking up a small pendant, she handed it to me.

The rich bluish-green color of the stone sparked with an iridescence. “What is it?”

“An opal.”

I stared at her in shock. “But I thought opals were black.”

“Some are, but they’re other colors, too. Try it on.” She threaded a silver chain through the loop of the pendant.

“Oh no. I can’t afford—”

“Not to buy it. Wear it and you’ll find the man of your heart.” She linked it around my neck. “Perfect. And I’ll sell it to you for two golds.”

“I don’t—”

“I’ll include the chain.”

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t—”

“Sold,” a familiar voice next to me said. He dropped two gold coins into the merchant’s palm. “After all, it already worked. You were looking for the man of your heart, and now you’ve found him.”

Chapter 7

MY AUTOMATIC REACTION was to grab the hilts of my sais. I hadn’t seen Devlen’s face since he attacked me at the Thunder Valley market two seasons ago. But the big smile reminded me that Ulrick and not Devlen’s soul resided within the body.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked.

“Word moves like lightning in these small towns.” He hooked an arm around my shoulders and propelled me down the street. “One of the merchants sent me a warning that someone was asking about me. Or, rather, the new me.” He squeezed me close. “I knew you would figure it out! Devlen claimed he would fool everyone, but I warned him he couldn’t trick you.”

Guilt flared. Caught off guard, I felt unbalanced. Our reunion was not how I had envisioned it. I thought I would have to rescue him.

“What’s been going on? Tell me everything,” he said.

I stopped and searched his face. “Did something else happen to you when you switched bodies with Devlen? You seem…”

“Happy?”

“I was going to say different, but happy works. You never were the overjoyous type.” He had been moody, sullen, protective and jealous, which made the times he had been in a good mood stand out. “Why are you happy? Do you have any idea what Devlen did in your body? What he did to me? If you consented to the trade, you’re just as guilty as he is.”

He sobered. “Let’s find a quiet corner to talk.”

He led me to a pub called the Emerald Eyes. Ulrick nodded to the owner and strode to a back table. I had been in here earlier and the owner claimed he hadn’t seen anyone matching Ulrick’s description.

After we sat, the man glided over to us carrying two mugs of ale.

“I see you found your friend,” the proprietor said, setting a mug before me.

“No thanks to you.”

The owner was unaffected by my comment. “Rick is my best customer. You’re a stranger. Dinner?”

“Yes,” Ulrick said.

“No,” I said. When the owner left, I raised an eyebrow. “Rick?”

He squirmed a bit. “I couldn’t use my real name. It didn’t feel right, and I don’t like the name Devlen. Rick worked.”

“So you agreed to be Rick? It wasn’t forced on you?”

He gulped his ale and set the mug on the table, placing it in the same ring of wetness. Avoiding my gaze, he fiddled with it.

“Why did you switch bodies with Devlen?”

“I couldn’t resist.”

“Resist what?” I prompted, although I had a good guess.

“The power.” He looked up. “You know, Opal. Remember when everyone called your magic the One-Trick Wonder? How you longed to do more?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t—”

“Really? If someone gave you the chance, would you really have refused? If Pazia approached you, before she lost her magic, and wanted to change places? Think about it before you answer.”

The temptation would have been strong, but I would have refused because of the blood magic.

Before I could speak, he said, “I went from Ulrick, the One-Trick Nobody, to Rick, The Magician.” He laid his hands on the table with the palms up. The mug rattled, then floated into his hand. His lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“Didn’t you think we might have just scratched the surface of your own magic? That you might be able to do more?” I clamped down on my next question. Didn’t he think about me?

“He’s a Sandseed Story Weaver. He read the threads of my life and said I possessed one ability—to infuse my glass pieces with a brush of magic so they could read a person’s mood.” Bitterness spiked his voice. “The only way to increase my power was to switch with him. He no longer desired his magical ability. Devlen wanted to be an average man. I’m sorry if he hurt you by leaving so abruptly…” Ulrick paused. “Is that how you discovered the switch? Because you thought I wouldn’t leave you?”

Guilt warred with confusion. I replayed his words in my mind. “He was supposed to leave?”

“Yes. He was going to sever all contact with my friends and family…with you. I planned to learn all about my new magic, and then find you and explain.”

“But didn’t you know who he was?” Confusion won the battle.

“A Sandseed Story—”

“No. Who he really was?”

By his blank look, I knew he didn’t. Devlen had possessed a strong mental ability and he could convince a weak magician of anything. Add his wordplay skills, and Ulrick hadn’t stood a chance.

“He’s a Daviian Warper. He attacked me twice. Didn’t I tell…” No. I hadn’t. The contents of my stomach churned with dread.

“Must have been during one of your secret magician meetings where I wasn’t invited. No reason to tell a One-Trick Nobody.” He swigged his ale and glared into the mug.

“It wasn’t like that. When I explained about Sir and Tricky’s kidnapping, you wanted a battalion of guards to watch me despite the fact I escaped on my own. If I had told you about Devlen—”

“We wouldn’t be here.”

“No. You would have never let me out of your sight.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

When I didn’t answer, he continued, “Face it, Opal. You’re dancing around the subject, but we both know the real reason you’re upset.”

“We do?”

“Yes. In switching my life for another’s, I gave up on us. With his Story Weaver ability, Devlen replayed our times together. Watching you from a different perspective, I realized you never loved me.” The distance in his eyes faded. He leaned forward as if excited by a new idea. “But you’re here now. When he left, you must have realized your true feelings, tracked him down and discovered the switch.” A hopeful tone lit his voice.

A conflicting array of emotions rolled through me. Guilt dominated, and I needed to tell him…everything. “Ulrick, Devlen didn’t leave.”

“Oh?” A quizzical expression crinkled his eyebrows.

“He was a Daviian Warper—”

“Was. He doesn’t have any power—well, unless he can blow glass—because I have it.”

Unable to form words, I shut my mouth. Devlen had convinced him the switch included magic. And from his words, Ulrick didn’t know about blood magic.

“What?” he asked. “He couldn’t have hurt you. With your glass spiders and bees, sais, and surrounded by Leif and that Stormdancer, you were well protected.”

I pieced together Ulrick’s comments. Devlen had spun a story using Ulrick’s own fears and disappointments. No magical power. No love, and, since his sister did hit him over the head, no family support. If they switched bodies, Ulrick would have his desire, and Devlen would sever relations with Ulrick’s friends and go his merry way. If his argument hadn’t worked, Devlen could have used his magic to persuade him.

“It appears Devlen lied to you and tricked you, too,” I said.

A stubborn conviction settled in a hard line across his shoulders. “I guess it’s easier for you to believe he tricked me than think I left you.”

A rush of fury pulsed in my veins. How many more people would accuse me of lying to myself or others? I suppressed the urge to bash him on the head.

The arrival of Ulrick’s dinner allowed me a few minutes to cool down and collect my thoughts. He ate with abandon, as if concentrating on his food would keep me from commenting.

“Let me tell you a story while you eat,” I said. I related how Devlen used his disguise as Ulrick. Sticking to the facts, I kept an even pace even when I admitted to letting him seduce me. “You acted different yet the same. Bolder and more confident.” I gestured to him. “I hadn’t realized that was what I needed from you to go to the next step in our relationship. At the time, I thought your change was due to being tricked by Gressa. You…Devlen told me you realized you no longer needed your family’s approval. And I rationalized the change to you finally moving past your disappointment over your magic.”

He had stopped eating and looked at me in either horror or pain. Both cut through me, exposing my guilt.

“And perhaps in a deep level of my consciousness I knew you were different. In order to be honest, I have to admit the possibility. I’m sorr—”

“Go on,” he said. His voice was rough, and his food forgotten. “What else happened?”

I explained how Kade’s capture forced me to admit I had feelings for the Stormdancer, and how my need to help Kade unwittingly revealed Devlen.

Ulrick flinched. “Go on.”

I told about the torture and how I tricked Devlen into going to Ixia’s northern ice sheet to meet up with Sir and his gang. They had caught Kade spying on them and planned to coerce him into harvesting the killing energy from Ixia’s blizzards into glass orbs. “Devlen wanted me to find his mentor’s prison. He didn’t care about Sir’s scheme. He knew I could locate the imprisoned Warpers in my glass animals through my nightmares.”

Ulrick gripped his chair arms, but said nothing. I continued the story, finishing with Kade’s and my escape.

“You drained Devlen? No magic left?” he asked.

“None.”

“Without him attacking you?”

“Yep. I stole his magic.”

He sat in stunned silence, which continued as all the information sank in. The tavern owner hustled over to inquire if everything was all right.

“Fine, fine.” Ulrick pushed his plate away. He tapped the mug. “I need a refill and a shot of whiskey.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Where is Devlen now?”

“In Fulgor.”

“In prison?”

“No. He’s working for your sister.”

“Say that again.”

“No one believes me. If they do, they’re pretending they don’t like Gressa. She’s using Devlen.” A bone-deep weariness soaked into my body.

“For what?”

“I don’t know. She’s Councilor Moon’s first adviser now. Do you remember what happened when you went to her factory and confronted her about the fake diamonds?”

Ulrick raked his fingers through his hair. He had let the black strands grow past his shoulders—surprising considering he always kept his own hair short.

“She seemed impressed we had discovered her work,” he said. “I tried to convince her to fess up to the authorities and perhaps earn a lighter sentence. After that…” He quirked a rueful smile. “She bashed me on the head. When I regained consciousness, Devlen was helping me.”

“She did follow your advice. She told the Councilor of Akako’s plot and gained her trust.” Which didn’t quite add up, unless Tama had other reasons to keep Gressa close. “What have you been doing since then?”

“Devlen instructed me how to increase my powers. He claimed there were two Story Weavers in Ognap who could guide me, but I haven’t found them. Instead, I’ve been earning money by helping a local glassmaker. I guess he lied about the Weavers, but…” He tapped his chest. “Apart of me still believes him, yet with my magic, I can sense you’re telling the truth, too.”

“The Sandseed clan was decimated five years ago by the Daviian Vermin. No Story Weavers survived. The two he mentioned are Warpers.” Before he could contradict me, I said, “Not many people know because the Sandseeds don’t want it to be made public. Yelena is helping them until one of their children develop the ability.”

The owner returned with Ulrick’s order, placing the drinks on the table before hustling off. While we talked, the room had filled with people.

Ulrick downed the whiskey in one gulp. He played with the empty glass. “You kept many things from me, but you gave Devlen, and that Stormdancer, much more. I don’t want to be with you anymore.” He tossed a few coins on the table and stood.

“I understand, but you need to come with me to Fulgor. We’ll find Devlen, and Yelena can switch you back to your own body.”

He looked at me as if I had spoken in a foreign tongue. “Switch back to a magicless body?”

“You’ll still have your glass magic. Despite what Devlen told you, your own magic stays with your soul. The added magic you have now is from blood magic, which I haven’t even explained to you yet. It’s—”

“Another one of your secrets? No more, Opal. I’m done with you.” He turned away.

I leaped to my feet, grabbed his arm and pushed his sleeve to his elbow, exposing the tattoos. “Blood has been mixed with the ink. It’s the real reason you have more power. It’s illegal.”

He yanked his arm free. “I don’t care. I have magic and I have freedom. You can’t force me to go to Fulgor.”

“Yes, I can.”

“How?” He crossed his arms and straightened to his full height.

“I can drain your magic, leaving you with nothing.” I bluffed. I wasn’t sure if I could steal blood magic. Tricky had kept his, but it was my blood, not another’s. And I didn’t know how it all worked.

He laughed. “You don’t have an orb with you.”

I picked up the shot glass. “Any glass will work.” Another bluff.

He knocked the glass from my grip. It shattered on the floor.

“Oops. Nice try, Opal.”

“I don’t have to be close to you. I can pull your magic from a distance.”

He appeared unimpressed. “A few feet? A mile?” He shrugged. “I can sense you from that distance. Besides, I have no intention of letting you get that close.” His gaze hardened and an invisible force pushed me into my seat. “I have my own defenses.”

“There are other ways to counter you.”

“But first you have to find me.”

The tavern owner appeared by his side. “Something wrong?”

“Yes,” Ulrick said. “She’s causing trouble. Call the authorities and have her arrested for drunk-and-disorderly conduct.” He slipped the man a coin.

“Yes, sir.”

Ulrick strode to the door, but I couldn’t stand until he left.

The owner remained next to the table. He blocked my way. “Can I get you a drink while you’re waiting?”

“No thanks. I’m leaving.” I stepped around him and encountered two tank-size men with flat expressions. My sais would probably bend around their large shaved heads. Sighing, I returned to the table. “I’ll have a glass of wine.”

The owner inclined his head as if to say, “Wise move,” and headed toward the bar. He spoke with a young man who then sprinted from the tavern. Probably to report to the town’s security force. With the two musclemen hovering nearby, I stayed in my seat. Digging two handfuls of my little glass spiders from the pockets of my cloak, I kept them hidden in my palms. I waited for the perfect moment.

When a server passed me carrying a full tray, I tripped her. The poor girl flew forward and the mugs of ale splashed all over the next table. Amid cries of dismay, I crushed the spiders in my hand, hoping no one noticed the huffs of air and the flashes.

About a dozen spiders appeared on the table. “Crawl all around the tavern,” I ordered, sending them a mental image of what I needed them to do. They scurried to obey. I smiled. Handy little guys.

Shrill shrieks and screams followed gasps of horror as the spiders dashed and scuttled through and over the tavern’s patrons, providing me with an excellent distraction. I left without trouble and, after a fruitless search of Ognap for Ulrick, I returned to the Tourmaline Inn.

While waiting for Janco to return, I reviewed my conversation with Ulrick. The whole encounter felt surreal, and not as I expected. His reaction to me had been justified, but his desire to remain in Devlen’s body must be part of the addictive nature of the blood magic. Yeah, right, Opal. Better to blame blood magic than to blame yourself. Or Ulrick.

Devlen claimed the exchange had been mutual, but Ulrick hadn’t been given all the facts. Plus, the magical persuasion made the whole endeavor suspect. I would need to track Ulrick down and capture him somehow. Perhaps Janco would have a few ideas on how to accomplish that.

Then what? Escort him to Yelena? She was the only person who could corroborate my story. Janco’s word didn’t count, as far as the Sitians were concerned.

I stretched out on the bed, but sleep eluded me. My thoughts whirled out of my control, matching my life. If I was caught by the Council now, they wouldn’t hesitate to lock me in the Keep’s cells. Better to stay free and sort this mess out on my own.

The bang of a door woke me from a light doze.

Janco rushed into the room. “Wake up! We need to leave. Now!” He shoved my stuff into my bag.

I pushed up to my elbow. “Why?”

“The local guards have been…ah…alerted to our presence.”

Hopping out of bed, I grabbed my clothes. “How?”

“Minor…miscalculation. I’ll explain later. Move!”

I tossed my saddlebags over my shoulder and followed him into the inn’s hallway. He skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs. Janco put a finger to his lips as Carleen’s irritated voice reached us.

“…indecent hour. My customers won’t be happy.”

The glow from a lantern brightened the staircase. We backed away as Carleen and a large group of soldiers mounted the steps.

Chapter 8

AS THE SOLDIERS stormed up the stairs, Janco and I backpedaled to his room. He locked the door.

“Do we pelt them with pillows when they break in?” I asked.

“Cute.” He crossed to the window and opened the shutters. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

“You first.”

He hung a leg out and turned so his stomach rested on the sill. “Watch the landing—there’s a puddle about a foot to the left.” Janco dropped from sight.

Fists pounded on the door and a loud voice ordered me to open up. All the incentive I needed. I tossed my saddlebags toward the right side of the window, then followed Janco’s example and lowered myself down. Hanging by my hands, I let go. After a second of stomach-buzzing free fall, I hit the ground hard.

Voices shouted from above. A figure leaned from the window. Janco grabbed my hand and yanked me to my feet.

“Come on. Come on.” He pulled me down the alley.

Dark shapes appeared ahead of us. Janco changed directions, whipping me around. He stopped. More soldiers blocked the other end.

“How important is it to stay free?” he asked.

“Important, but not enough to seriously hurt anyone.”

He nodded and pulled his sword. “Choose an opponent and rush him,” he instructed. “Don’t stop. Use your momentum to break through the barricade and keep going. Step on the person if you have to. Just keep going.”

He charged the line of soldiers, yelling a battle cry. I kept pace beside him. They flinched back. Interesting strategy.

Hindered by my saddlebags, I couldn’t grab my sais. Instead, I palmed a few spiders. When we drew close, I crushed them. The flash helped to confuse the soldiers, and I ordered the spiders to bite their hands. It’s hard not to drop your weapon when a large eight-legged creature sinks its teeth into you.

I rammed my free shoulder into a man who swatted at his clothes. He rocked back and I spun around him, stumbling for a heart-cramping moment.

Yelps of pain and cries of confusion surrounded me, but I listened to Janco’s instructions and kept going. We broke through the line. Janco flashed me a huge grin and a thumbs-up.

We ran through dark streets and stayed in the shadows. My bags kept sliding down my arm, throwing me off my stride. The weight dragged on me and my chest heaved with the effort to suck in air.

“Horses?” I huffed.

“Being watched.” Janco sprinted with ease. He wasn’t even out of breath. “You need to get more exercise.”

“And…you need…to not…make…miscalculations.”

“And ruin the fun?”

I glared, but it failed to diminish his obvious glee in being pursued by a pack of soldiers.

We zigzagged through Ognap until I lost my sense of direction and we lost the most dogged pursuer. My companion moved as if seeing the surrounding buildings with a second sight.

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