Storm Glass (17 page)

  “There’s no evidence to suggest it. But, then again, there’s no evidence to disprove it, either. Tal-”

  “Would never jeopardize a Stormdancer’s life,” Raiden said. “He’s upset and disappointed, but I’ve known the boy since he was little. He’s all bluster.”

  “He’s no longer a little boy, and all he ever wanted to be was a Stormdancer. Opal made a valid point. Who wants to take the first shift?” Indra asked her brothers.

  Varun volunteered. “Stop by and say goodbye on your way home.” He left in a hurry.

  I finally joined Zitora by the horse stalls. She had finished saddling Sudi. The contents of her bags littered the floor.

  “We don’t have much food. We’ll stop at the market after we talk to the officials in Thunder Valley. I hope they have more information on Blue Eyes.” She organized our remaining provisions and packed them as I hurried to prepare Quartz for the journey.

  The Stormdancers returned from their scavenging in time for us to say farewell. Heli gave me a shiny pink-and-white shell. The almost-flat fan shape was ridged and there was a tiny hole near the top.

  “It’s a scallop’s shell. You can string in on a necklace and wear it if you want,” Heli said.

  “Don’t you want to keep it for your collection?”

  “It’s for you. A small token of my thanks for helping with the orbs.”

  I clamped down on my desire to contradict her, remembering Kade’s words.

  My legs felt as if they were full of sand as we trudged up the trail to The Flats. I tried to convince myself my reluctance to leave was due to a dread over spending the night out in the open and sleeping on the uncomfortable ground. And not due to missing the company of a certain Stormdancer.

  We arrived at Thunder Valley the next afternoon. Tired and sore from a night of restless sleep, I followed Zitora into the town’s administration building. Even through my fog of fatigue, I noted the elaborate candelabra on the mantel in the lobby. The candleholder’s teardrop pattern made with red crystal was a trademark of my uncle’s. I remembered how proud and excited he had been when he was asked to make the piece. It was an honor to be chosen to decorate a government building.

  Zitora led me into the security offices located in the west wing of the first floor. She warned me that since the escape of the ambushers the local guards were outright hostile to anyone with magic abilities.

  We entered an open common area strewn with desks. Guards either worked at their desks or stood in groups. Our arrival caused a bit of a stir and one man approached us.

  “Can I help you?” he asked Zitora.

  “Yes. Is Captain Loris in his office?”

  “No. He’s on patrol. I’m Lieutenant Coll. Perhaps I can help you…”

  “Master Cowan.”

  He jerked and stared at me. Three other guards moved closer and spread between us and the door. Everyone’s attention pressed on my skin.

  “When will the Captain be back?” Zitora asked.

  But the Lieutenant ignored her question. He kept his focus on me. “Is she traveling with you, Master Cowan?”

  “Why do you want to know?” The firm authority in her voice caused the man to switch his attention back to her.

  “I apologize, Master Cowan, but I need to know her identity.”

  “Why?”

  The question was weighted. I recognized the signs. If the man had any intelligence or any sensitivity to magic, he would rush to answer her question before she forced it from him with her magic.

  “She matches the description of a wanted criminal.”

  Zitora’s posture relaxed a bit. “She’s not a criminal. Her name is Opal Cowan. She’s an apprentice at the Magician’s Keep.”

  Coll nodded to the men behind us. I thought they would return to their desks. Instead, two of them grabbed my arms.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Explain, now,” Zitora ordered Lieutenant Coll.

  “Opal Cowan is under arrest.”

12

“WHAT’S THE CHARGE?”
Zitora demanded.

  Silence filled the entire room. All of the officers in the security department’s common area watched us. My two guards kept a firm hold on my arms. The third man searched me for weapons, removing my sais.

  Twelve armed men against one Master Magician. Her power was considerable and she had disarmed four, including two magicians. But twelve? The odds weren’t in our favor.

  “Robbery,” Lieutenant Coll said. “After your visit sixteen days ago, a woman reported a young girl named Opal stole a glass vase from her market stand.”

  “I bought it for seven silvers,” I said.

  “The stand owner said you returned later and snatched a second vase. The woman has two witnesses.”

  One of the guards handed Zitora a sheet of parchment. “Here’s her arrest warrant, Master Cowan.”

  She frowned at the warrant. I craned my neck but couldn’t read the neat printing.

  Lieutenant Coll recited a statement about my arrest and rights. His words wouldn’t take root in my stunned brain, until he said, “Escort her downstairs. Cell three.”

  No one moved.

  I looked at Zitora. “I didn’t steal anything.”

  “I know. It’s an obvious misunderstanding. Release her into my custody, Lieutenant, and we’ll settle this matter.”

  “I’m not authorized. You’ll have to submit a request to Captain Loris.”

  “As Second Magician of Sitia,
I
have the authority. Release her.”

  Coll blanched, and his right hand hovered near the hilt of his sword. But he pulled it together. “I’m sorry, but I can’t unless I receive an order from my direct supervisor.”

  I hated to admit I was impressed by the Lieutenant, standing his ground when faced with an angry Master Magician.

  The tension in the room increased. If Zitora tried forcing Coll to release me, the officers would have to decide who to support. From the array of determined stances, I guessed they would help Coll.

  With a huff of annoyance, Zitora relaxed. “Opal, don’t worry about anything. I’ll have you out before dinner.”

  “But-” The two guards holding my arms pulled me from the room, cutting off my protest.

  In no time, I was led down a flight of steps, through a massive metal door, along a drafty corridor lined with cells on both sides and pushed into a small room. The door closed with a clang, raising goose bumps on my flesh and the loud rasp of the lock hit me like a punch to my stomach.

  I marveled at how fast my life had changed. One moment making a stop for food and supplies, the next locked in a prison. Should the turn in events surprise me? If I reviewed my history, I could list many other upsets. But would the anticipation of ambushes and kidnappings make life easier? Probably the opposite-constant paranoia would be a strain. Caution mixed with the quick ability to adapt and respond would be a good combination. If only I possessed those qualities.

  None of my thoughts helped me with my current predicament, but I had faith in Zitora and in the knowledge of my innocence.

  At least the cell appeared to be clean. Iron bars formed the wall and door facing the hallway, and the rest of the room was constructed with stone. Weak sunlight shone through a small rectangular-shaped window located high on the back wall. Thin bars striped the opening.

  A narrow bed was anchored to the floor. A thin straw-filled mattress rested on top of it. If I stood on the end of the bed, I could see outside. I peered out, but the limited view of an empty alley didn’t provide any entertainment.

  I sat cross-legged on the mattress. This wasn’t so bad. No odors. The slop pot was clean, and tucked behind a short privacy screen bolted to the wall. No sign of rats.

  I wouldn’t be here long. This was bearable. I tried to convince myself this was just an inconvenience despite the tightness ringing my chest. Despite the desire to pace the cell and yell for the guards to let me out. Or should I scream for them? Those doors to the prison were rather thick. Airtight. Spots swirled in my vision. A crushing weight pressed on my lungs.

  Drawing in a couple of deep breaths helped relieve the tension. This was tolerable. Much better than being confined in a stuffy tent, unable to move.

  Memories of my two-week ordeal with Alea flooded my mind. Almost five years ago, but I still could recall the long periods of boredom, lying there on the floor all day with my muscles paralyzed. Alea had always arrived at sunset and before the Curare’s effects had completely faded.

  Once the drug wore off, feeling returned to my body. The first few nights, she gave me food and water, and let me stretch my legs. She pricked me with a thorn dipped in Curare when she left in the evening, robbing me of movement again.

  I was lulled into a sense of routine. My fears weakened each day, and I looked forward to her arrival. It didn’t last long.

  On the fourth night she brought a man with her. He wore a red mask and dark glasses. Alea didn’t bother to introduce us.

  She said to me, “He will be in charge of you until the night of the exchange.” She turned to him. “The girl
must
listen to our instructions. Make sure she knows exactly what will happen to her if she disobeys.”

  He nodded.

  “Good. Meet me at Blood Rock on the night of the full moon. Bring her with you.”

  Alea left the tent. The fabric flap snapped shut with an ominous slap as if she wiped her hands of me. Finally able to move, I sat. He reached for me.

  The crash of a door and strident voices interrupted my morbid reverie-thank fate. I recognized Zitora’s voice.

  “…to talk to her, Captain. You can’t deny me entry.”

  A man’s voice replied. “I’m not denying you, I just want you to wait until we can conduct a proper interrogation.”

  The word
interrogation
sent a cold jolt of fear through me. I moved closer to the bars, waiting for my visitors.

  Zitora strode into view first. She had pulled her long honey-colored hair into a severe bun. Her annoyed demeanor radiating an impressive authority. If she had packed her magician’s robes, I bet she would have worn them to add to her strong presence.

  An older man wearing a navy uniform followed her. Two gold bars glinted from the collar of his shirt and his belt bulged with weapons. He scowled at me.

  “Can I go now?” I asked, trying and failing to keep the hope from my voice.

  “Not yet. Opal, what’s this?” Zitora held up a glass vase. Made to hold a single flower, it was long and thin. Small bubbles decorated the rim and base of the vase.

  I hesitated. Everyone knew what it was. What did Zitora really want me to say? I stuck my hand through the bars. “Can I see it?”

  “No,” the Captain said.

  Zitora gave me the vase. The Captain muttered, but stopped when the Master Magician shot him a look.

  The glass popped with magic. “This is one of Ulrick’s pieces. Did you purchase it from the woman in the market?”

  “No. Captain Loris found it in your saddlebags. It’s the stolen vase. Care to explain?”

  I stared at her until full comprehension of her words managed to bypass my surprise. “My saddlebags? Are you sure?”

  “I witnessed the search.” She kept her tone neutral.

  “It wasn’t there when we left the Stormdancers. Someone must have planted it in my bag.” I put my arms out to the side. “Go ahead. Scan my mind.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Zitora reported to the Captain.

  “No offense, Master Cowan, but you’re biased. She’s your student and traveling companion. You’re young-”

  “Captain.” She growled with frustration. Her hands bunched into fists; her body poised to punch the man. But she paused, and made a visible effort to relax. Her arms dropped down and she laced her fingers together. “Fine. Summon another magician. One who can sense the truth.”

  “Now you’re thinking. I’ll send a message. The magician should be here in two days.”

  “Two days!” My cry echoed in the stone cell.

  “This isn’t the Citadel. Thunder Valley is a small town. We only have a healer. And we’re lucky to have him.” The Captain peered at me with suspicion. “I believe you met him. He cleaned up your sword cuts.”

  “I already explained about the man who attacked Opal,” Zitora said.

  “The magician you didn’t warn us about? Who escaped from our prison? You’re saying he stayed in the area, risking capture just so he could attack Opal?”

  “And Stormdancer Kade,” I said.

  “So you say.”

  Zitora leveled a dangerous stare at the Captain. “Are you calling
me
a liar?”

  The Captain refused to back down. “No. But magic is involved with this situation, which makes all memories, information and people suspect.”

  He was either brave, intelligent or ignorant of the amount of power Zitora could wield with ease. Probably a combination of all three. But at least he agreed to let us have a private conversation, moving away from us.