Мария Снайдер - Magic Study - Study 2

I nodded. “But I don’t necessarily believe all that I hear.”

“Good. Although, I’m embarrassed to admit that one is true. I was young, cocky and stupid, enjoying being known as the Death Artist. I even started leaving a carving before I began a job, letting my victim find it.” Valek shook his head at the memory. “That nonsense almost got me killed, so I stopped it altogether.”

Valek finished dressing. “I’ll be at the market today in case anything happens.”

He kissed me and I clung to him for a moment, wishing we could run away and forget about soul-stealing magicians and Cahil. But that wasn’t for us. Dealing with prisoners, schemers and killers seemed to be our lot in life. Besides, we would probably grow bored living in safety without any problems to worry about. But still I wished for it.

With reluctance, I let Valek go. He nodded toward the door. I opened it and distracted the guard. When I returned to the living room, the heavy darkness pressed on my skin as the icy air soaked into my bones. Valek was gone.

Irys and I walked to the market that morning. The bleak, overcast sky reflected my mood. I huddled in my cloak. It was the first time I needed to wear it during the daytime.

People crowded the market. They hurried to get their shopping done before the dark rain clouds that hovered on the horizon could descend on the Citadel.

I made a few small purchases before I felt a familiar tug on my sleeve. Fisk stood next to me. He flashed me a smile. His face no longer held the gauntness of malnutrition, and I could see his busy gang of children carrying packages for the shoppers.

“You wanted to find a strange man living with a young girl?” he asked.

“Yes. Have you seen them?”

He grinned, holding out his hand. “Information costs money.”

“I see you’re branching out into a new trade. Very wise,” I said as I handed him a Sitian copper. “But watch who you deal with. Some won’t take kindly to your inquiries.”

He nodded with understanding and I saw a wisdom far beyond his nine years in his light brown eyes. I suppressed a sigh. In Ixia, Fisk’s intelligence would be encouraged. He would grow up to be an Adviser or a high-ranking officer, but in Sitia he had grown up on the street, begging for food and money. But not anymore.

I smiled. “What do you know?”

“I’ll show you.” Fisk pulled on my hand.

Irys, who had remained silent during our exchange, asked, “Can I come with you?”

Fisk ducked his head, looking at the ground. “If it pleases you, Fourth Magician,” he mumbled.

A wry grin touched Irys’s face. “So much for my disguise.”

Fisk glanced up in surprise. “Only the beggars who work near the Council’s Hall would recognize you, Fourth Magician. With not much to do all day, they study the Council members. It’s a game to be the first to recognize one of the Master Magicians.”

Irys considered Fisk’s comments. He squirmed under her scrutiny until he couldn’t stand it any longer and turned away from her stare.

“Come. This way,” he said.

We followed him through the Citadel. Cutting across back alleys and empty courtyards, I wondered if Valek followed us. The residents seemed intent on their chores and hardly noticed our passage.

Fisk stopped before we reached an open plaza. A large jade statue of a tortoise with intricate carvings on its shell occupied the middle of the square. The dark green turtle shot water out of its mouth and into a pool of water.

Pointing to a building on the opposite side of the plaza, Fisk said, “On the second floor lives a man with red lines on his hands. He’s new and no one knows him. He wears a cloak that hides his face. My brother has seen a young girl enter the building, carrying packages.”

I looked at Irys. Was this quarter searched with magic? I asked her with my mind.

Yes. But not by a Master.

She stretched out her awareness and my mind’s eye went with her. Our minds touched a young woman nursing a baby on the first floor. Her thoughts on getting the baby to nap after he’d eaten his fill. Another woman on the third floor worried about the possibility of rain. We could feel no one on the second floor, but Ferde’s magic matched Irys’s in strength and he would not be easy to detect.

I could push harder, but he would know we were here, Irys said. I will come back with some reinforcements.

Who?

Roze and Bain. Together we should be able to subdue him. And once he’s unconscious, he’ll be easier to transport to the Keep’s prison.

Why unconscious?

A magician is helpless when unconscious.

Sleeping? I asked in alarm.

No. Only if it’s a drugged sleep or you get knocked out.

What happens once he wakes? Won’t he be able to use his magic to escape?

The Keep’s prison cells contain a power loop. If a magician tries to use magic within the cell, the loop absorbs the magical power and directs it back into the cell’s defenses until the magician is exhausted.

Fisk, who had been staring at us in fascination, cleared his throat. “Do you think the one you seek is living here?”

“Could the young girl your brother saw be the one with the baby?” Irys asked Fisk.

He shook his head. “That’s Ruby. Sometimes she hires me to watch Jatee.”

I grinned. “You’re turning into quite the entrepreneur.”

“I bought my mother a new dress,” he said with pride.

Rain began to fall as we made our way back to the market. With a wave, Fisk joined his friends and disappeared. The market emptied as the vendors packed up their wares. One woman bumped into me in her haste to get out of the rain. She shouted an apology, but never slowed her pace. Rumbles of thunder echoed off the hard marble walls of the Citadel.

I’ll find Roze and Bain. You return to the Keep, Irys instructed.

But I want to be there when you search that building.

No. Stay at the Keep, Yelena. He wants you. And if something goes wrong and he threatens to hurt Opal, you know you’ll give yourself up. It’s too dangerous.

I wanted to argue. But Irys was right, and, if I followed her despite her instructions, she wouldn’t trust me again.

Irys headed toward the Council Hall to find Roze, who had an appointment with the Ixian Ambassador. A meeting I would have loved to eavesdrop on. The arrogant Master Magician against the powerful Commander.

The rain began to fall in sheets, soaking my cloak. When I tucked my cold, wet hands into the pockets, my fingers touched paper. I couldn’t remember putting anything there. I hadn’t worn my cloak since coming to Sitia, although, I had used it to sleep when we had camped on the Avibian Plains. Perhaps the paper contained a cryptic message from Story Weaver. I laughed; it seemed to be something he would enjoy doing, leaving a puzzling note in my cloak. However, the mystery would have to wait until I found some shelter from the rain.

My guards waited at the Keep’s entrance. They followed me as I headed toward my room. After they searched the interior, I invited them inside, but they declined, citing some military regulation.

After I started a roaring fire and hung up my sodden cloak, I extracted the paper. It was a message for me. My hands turned to ice as I read the words, and even the heat from the hearth couldn’t warm them up.

“What does the message say?” Valek asked, coming from the bedroom.

I had ceased to be amazed by his abilities. Dripping wet, he must have come in through the bedroom window past one of my guards.

He plucked the paper from my hand. “She had some rudimentary skills. Probably a pickpocket hired to give you this note. Did you get a good look at her face?”