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White smoke billowed from the stack atop the glass workshop. When I entered, the heat pushed against my skin like a wet wool blanket. The roar of the kilns rumbled deep in my chest and through the soles of my boots. Students sat at gaffer benches, spinning their iron rods to shape the molten glass gathered on the end. Others blew into pipes and the glass expanded into bubbles.
I scanned the activity, seeking a familiar face. In the center of the bustle stood Mara, instructing a student. A beautiful woman with a heart-shaped face and the sweetest soul. My brother had done plenty of stupid, annoying and crazy things, but marrying Mara had been the smartest thing he’d ever done.
Her tawny-colored eyes lit when she spotted me. A kerchief tied back her golden-brown hair. Dirt smudged her cheek and her apron had seen better days. She gestured to her office and held up two fingers.
Understanding the signal, I wove through the glassmaking equipment and entered the relative coolness of her office. Glass vases, paperweights, bowls and tumblers littered the room. Student efforts or Mara’s, I couldn’t tell. Did my sister-in-law even have time to produce her own work? The Council hoped another magician would develop an affinity with glass like Mara’s sister, Opal, and Quinn, so a steady stream of first years arrived for their mandatory glass lessons. Those who enjoyed it continued to study the art during the rest of their five-year stay at the Keep.
I settled in the chair next to her desk, considering how much had changed since Opal’s glass magic had been discovered. It gave me a bit of comfort. Despite Bain’s lifelong quest to learn about magic and magicians, he’d never heard of Opal’s particular skills. Therefore, there was no reason to panic because he hadn’t heard of a magic-blocking poison.
Mara bustled in with a swish of skirts and I stood.
She embraced me. “Yelena! What a wonderful surprise. I didn’t expect you back so soon.” Then she pulled away and frowned. “Is something—”
“Nothing’s wrong. Valek had to leave early. The Commander’s patience had finally run out.”
“Oh dear, I hope he’s not in trouble.”
“In trouble? No. Causing trouble? Always.”
Her musical laugh warmed me.
She closed the door to her office, reducing the noise of the kilns and ensuring privacy. “Would you like some tea?” Mara lifted a glass teapot by its handle.
“Yes, please.”
She poured two steaming cups and then sat down.
“Is that—”
“One of Quinn’s hot glass pieces? Yes. It stays hot for days. A marvel! He’s a darling boy and gave it to me when I cleared two hours each evening just for him. Poor boy doesn’t like working with a crowd drooling over his shoulder. Who would?” Mara sipped from her cup. “And I had to ban the kitchen staff, too. They love his hot and cold glass and had been pestering him for more pieces. Who knew keeping meat cold keeps it from spoiling longer?” Wonder touched her voice.
“Has he discovered any other glass abilities since coming here?”
“He’s been concentrating on the messengers and the temperature glass. Opal told me he could attach a null shield to glass and other...” Mara swept her arms out as if searching for the right word. “Emotions. But between his classes and his work, the poor boy hasn’t had time to experiment.”
Interesting about the null shield. “He’s here every night?”
“Except for one night a week.”
Keeping my tone neutral, I asked, “Which night?”
Mara gazed at me. “Why? Is it important?”
Shoot. She’d been spending too much time with Leif.
“Just curious.”
“Uh-huh.” She waited.
“Oh all right. I want to talk to him.”
“Better. Let’s see...” Mara checked a ledger on her desk. “He was here the last couple of nights... His night off was four days ago.”
The timing matched the night of the attack. My heart thumped. “What does he do on his nights off?”
“He has riding lessons.”
Oh. Still, he could have missed his lesson. I needed to talk to the Stable Master.
“Is that the reason you stopped by?” Mara asked.
“No, I was looking for Leif.” Only after I said it did I realize how it must have sounded. “And to visit you.” Weak.
“How nice.” Her tone didn’t match her words.
“Sorry. It’s just...something came up and I haven’t been sleeping...” Weaker.
Concern softened the hard lines around her mouth. “And it’s probably some political problem that you can’t tell me. Between Leif and Opal, I’m used to being in the dark.”
From the way her shoulders drooped, I knew she was far from used to the idea, yet she put on a brave front. I drank my tea and reflected. Leif and Mara hadn’t even been married a year yet. It had been a lovely wedding and she had glowed with pure joy. She was part of my family. Kidnapped from Sitia at age six, I’d grown up in Ixia believing I had no family. Dreams of a fictional loving family had helped me through the dark times. And now I planned to enlist Leif’s help, taking his time away from Mara. Not very nice.
“The reason I need to talk to my brother is...” I filled her in on what had happened.
Mara clutched her apron, gathering the fabric into a tight bunch, but she didn’t say a word. When I finished, she slid off her chair and hugged me.
“Oh, Yelena, that’s terrible.” She squeezed tight then let go. “What can I do to help?”
“Help?” I hadn’t thought about it.
“Of course. I’m sure you have a plan of attack. And don’t tell me to keep it quiet. I’m not an idiot.”
True. “Can you find out if any of the students are able to siphon magic? Opal had done it with glass, but perhaps there is another magician who can do it with another object.”
She brightened. “I can. I know all the students and they like to brag about who can do what.” She held up her hand. Burn scars marked her fingers and wrist. “Don’t worry. I’ll be discreet. Are you going to talk to Opal? She might have some ideas.”
I groaned. Another possible avenue that I’d missed. “I will.”
“Good. Now go get some sleep. Leif’s at the Council Hall this morning, but he’ll be in the training yard later this afternoon, helping Marrok teach the juniors how to defend against a machete.”
“Thanks.”
She escorted me out the door and then remained on the workshop’s steps, ensuring I headed in the right direction. Another knot in my stomach eased as I skirted the pasture that occupied the space between the glass shop and the stables. Telling Mara had been the right thing to do.
When I entered the large wooden barn, Kiki whinnied a welcome. She looked over the Stable Master’s broad shoulder as he bent to clean dirt from her hooves. Her copper coat shone, her mane had been brushed and her whiskers were trimmed. Oh no.
“I was planning on—”
“Yeah, yeah.” The Stable Master cut me off. “Always the same. In a hurry with urgent business to attend to. I’ve heard all the excuses.” He moved to her back feet. “She was a muddy mess,” he grumbled. “Keep taking advantage of her and one day you’ll come out here and she’ll be gone.”
Not unless he stopped feeding her his famous milk oats. I sighed. The Stable Master lived and breathed horses. To him, nothing was more important. And he had a point.
“I’m sorry.” I draped my cloak over a stall door, picked up a comb and worked on untangling her tail. Then I helped him clean tack and muck out stalls until he no longer muttered quite as much. Which was as good of a mood as possible for him.
Before he left to order more feed, I asked about Quinn’s riding lessons.
“Strong as an ox, that boy,” the Stable Master said. “He don’t look it, but all those years of
diving for oysters honed his muscles. See that bay?” He pointed through the window.
A horse with a deep garnet-colored coat and a black mane and tail trotted around the inside of the pasture’s fence. “Yes.”
“Flann’s a son of a bitch—stubborn, spirited and strong. Quinn’s the only one who can ride him.”
