Maria Snyder: Spy Glass

Sitting in the living area later that evening, I addressed envelopes. My mother had appealed to my ego by complimenting my handwriting and had bribed my stomach by baking my favorite pie—black raspberry.

Warmth and light pulsed from the fireplace. I felt better after my ride with Quartz. Mother sat in her favorite chair, sewing Mara’s veil. Ahir sprawled on the floor, snoring, and Father worked on bills. A true moment of family peace. And like all such moments, it was too good to stay true for long.

A knock on our door broke the silence. Mother glanced at me in confusion, then brightened. “It’s the printer! He said he might be done with the invitations tonight, and I told him to bring them over right away.”

Silk and lace filled her lap. Before she could untangle herself, I offered to answer the door. I suppressed a sigh. If the invitations were indeed here, I would have to stuff them into the envelopes, sealing them with wax. A tiresome chore.

I glanced through the peephole. Shadows covered the face of a man holding a bottle. Not the printer. He must be the local winemaker Mother commissioned to distill the special wed ding wine. She spared no expense, and, for that, I was glad.

When I had sacrificed my magic, the power had transformed into diamonds. The Sitian Council had returned them all to me, and I had plenty of money to pay for all the wedding expenses—my gift to Mara and Leif.

I opened the door and froze in terror.

Valek, the Commander of Ixia’s personal assassin, waited outside. Only one reason for Valek to be here.

“Hello, Opal. Sorry for the surprise visit. Is this a bad time?” he asked with a pleasant tone and quizzical smile.

It was always a bad time to die.

I GAPED AT VALEK. HE STOOD ON OUR FRONT STEPwithin killing distance.

“Opal.” My mother’s voice cut through my panic. “Don’t stand there like a simpleton. Invite your guest in.”

I stuttered a few words and backed up with numb legs. His smile widened as my mother approached. The need to warn her lodged under my ribs. My body’s functions had disconnected, scattering my thoughts.

“You must be Opal’s mother,” Valek said. He shook her hand. “Your cooking skills are legendary, Mrs. Cowan. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Commander invites you to cook for him in Ixia.”

The wrinkles on her face disappeared as she blushed, erasing years of worry and stress. “Please, call me Vyncenza, Mr…?”

“Valek.” His name erupted from my mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Opal, don’t be rude.”

“Mother, this is Valek .” I gestured. “The Commander’s—”

“Security Chief,” he said. “And this is one of our finest vintages of Ixian Ice Wine.” He presented the bottle to my mother.

“Thank you. This is my husband, Jaymes.”

My father shook his hand. Ahir woke and jumped to his feet. He grinned at Valek in awe as he pumped his arm. The whole surreal scene swirled in front of my eyes like snowflakes.

“But, Mother. Valek is—”

“Practically family. Come in. Come in. You must be hungry. Jaymes, open that cognac your brother sent us. Ahir, fetch our good glasses.” She escorted Valek to the couch and hustled off to the kitchen as Ahir and my father hurried to complete their tasks.

Valek caught me staring. He smiled. “Relax, Opal. I’m not here on official duty.”

My heart resumed beating. “Then why are you here?”

“Since I’m practically family, I thought I should meet your parents.”

A stretch of truth only my mother could believe. Valek was Yelena’s heart mate, and Yelena was Leif’s sister; ergo, once Leif married Mara, Leif’s family, including Valek, would be part of ours. “What’s the real reason?” I asked.

“Later,” he said as my mother burst into the room carrying a tray loaded with food.

My father poured drinks and everyone settled in for a cozy chat. I listened to the small talk in amazement. Valek’s infamous reputation didn’t seem to bother anyone but me. And I should know better. Why would the Commander order my assassination when it was well-known my glass magic was gone? Unless he knew about my immunity? Only one other person in the world could make the same claim. And he sat next to me, sipping my uncle’s cognac.

But Yelena had promised not to tell anyone about my protection. Besides Kade, Zitora and Leif, no one else knew. Not my parents or siblings or friends. Not Valek. I trusted Yelena. Then why was he here? No idea. I would have to wait.

An eternity later, my mother finally stopped offering Valek our guest room when he promised to return the next day to tour the factory. I escorted him outside and down the lane to the gate.

“Spill,” I ordered.

Amusement flashed in his blue eyes as a smile quirked, softening the sharp features of his face. His pale skin almost glowed in the moonlight, an obvious contrast to the mostly darker-skinned Sitians, including me. Wearing a nondescript short gray cloak and black pants, he didn’t quite blend in, but he didn’t stand out, either. I gathered from his lack of disguise he wasn’t working undercover.

Valek scanned the empty street before he answered. “Yelena sent me to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“No idea. All she said was you needed help. Are you on a mission for the Council?”

I laughed. “No. Unless you consider wedding planning an act of espionage.”

“Hmm… My napkin folding skills are renowned. I can make a swan in seconds.”

“Don’t tell my mother or you’ll be folding napkins for days.”

“Days?” Valek’s left eyebrow rose.

“The guest list is up to five hundred names with more being added hourly.”

“Sounds like quite the party. However it’s not the reason Yelena sent me.”

I suspected why, but wanted to make sure. “What were her exact words?”

“She said, ‘Opal needs your help.’”

“That’s it?”

He nodded.

“You’ve traveled all this way without asking her for more details?”

“Of course.” His tone implied I lacked intelligence for asking such a question.

So sweet. He had absolute faith in his heart mate.

When the silence lengthened, he asked, “Does this have anything to do with losing your magic?”

I suppressed my immediate annoyance over the word “losing.” Why did everyone insist on using that word? Losing something implied a potential to find it again. Same with “lost.” So sorry you lost your magic, Opal. As if all I needed to do was search for it. No. It was gone. Never to return. Unless I used blood magic and that I wouldn’t do. Besides being illegal, it was far better to be without power than be addicted to it. Than to kill for it.

“Opal?”

Valek’s voice snapped me back to the problem at hand. Yelena sent him for a reason. She hadn’t shared my secret with him, but she thought I should. “I need some time. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Of course.” He bade me a good-night and disappeared into the shadows.

My night was far from restful. The decision to inform the Sitian Council about my immunity to magic flipped from yes to no and back again. My past dealings with the Council were rocky at best. Magicians who graduated from the Keep usually worked for the Council, but I had broken that tradition by going out on my own. This wouldn’t have been too big a problem, except I took my glass messengers with me.

The glass messengers that allowed magicians to communicate with each other over great distances in an instant. The glass messengers I no longer had the power to create, rendering a whole network of relay stations obsolete.

My new immunity could benefit the Council if they trusted me and if I trusted them. Big if. My tendency to keep certain abilities to myself had caused major trouble, resulting in the retirement of Master Magician Zitora Cowan, which left the Council with only two Master Magicians and the eleven elected members. One for each clan in Sitia.