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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.