A feeling of being home touched me for a brief moment. As I navigated the well-known hallways, I encountered pools of magic. A few graduates from the Keep’s program worked in various positions in administration. The random touch of power sent chills along my skin. I remembered Janco’s nickname for the place. Creepy Keepy.
“Come in,” First Magician Bain Bloodgood called through his office door.
I entered and smiled. As usual, clutter filled the room. Heaps of books strained the shelves. Odd devices and half-completed experiments littered his worktable. Piles of paper threatened to spill onto his desk. The messy office matched his wild gray hair, and the long navy robe reminded me of all the times I had sat opposite him, discussing Sitian history with him. His face would all but glow with pride when I had remembered an arcane bit of knowledge he had taught me.
I approached his desk. He glanced up from the book spread open before him. A stranger met my gaze. His appraisal lacked kindness or curiosity. The wrinkles around his mouth deepened with his annoyed frown. Dark smudges stood out against the pale, paper-thin skin clinging to his face.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” he demanded.
Taken aback, I scrambled for a reply. “I told Irys—”
“She told me your pathetic excuses. What I want to know is why you kept such a valuable skill secret from us when you had created such a crisis in Sitia?”
“Crisis?”
“The crisis due to your sacrifice. Giving up your magic has ground communications to a halt. It’s as if we have all gone suddenly deaf. Your glass messengers were vital to commerce and to my network of magicians. The Council doesn’t even want to hear your name.”
The ground dissolved under my feet. I groped for the chair, afraid I would fall. “But what about now? I saved a boy today and protected the power source.”
Bain’s anger deflated a bit. “You did an excellent job today. Once the boy is recovered, he will be enrolled in the Keep to learn how to control his magic. However, even saving the boy’s life won’t be enough to sway the Council’s opinion.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m afraid if I inform the Council about your immunity now, they’ll be afraid.”
Confused, I gripped the armchair. “Why?”
“The whole nasty business with Akako has them on edge. So much that I had to assign every Councilor a magician to protect them. A magician would not be able to stop you.”
“That’s extreme. I wouldn’t—”
“I know, but as I said, they’re not acting rational. Wait a while, Opal,” Bain said. “I will tell the Council when they’re ready. I’m hopeful everyone will relax soon. With Councilor Moon returning to the sessions this week, I’m sure it won’t be long. For now, Irys and I will keep you busy.”
Bain stood and walked around his desk. My head spun as if I was falling from a great height. Before I could reply, his arm settled on my shoulders and he guided me to the hallway.
“You look exhausted, child. You’re welcome to stay in the Keep’s guest quarters as long as you like. Get some sleep.” Bain closed the door.
I mulled over our conversation. Was I supposed to hang around the Keep waiting for Bain or Irys to give me something to do? Working for the Council didn’t appeal to me, but I would help the Master Magicians.
However, I wasn’t going to remain idle. Finn was a magician. And I suspected he had been Keep trained. I would use my time here to learn more about him.
It wasn’t until I stood in the formal garden in the middle of the Keep’s campus that I realized I had wandered without a destination in mind. The apprentice wings bookended me and the Fire Memorial glinted with reds and yellows in the afternoon sunlight. Having no desire to reminisce about the past, I averted my gaze from the statue.
Magic collected in parts of the campus like stationary clouds of dust. Without warning, I would walk into one, stumbling on the sudden thickness of the air. A feeling of unease crept through my bones as if these pools of magic waited to ambush me. Janco nailed it. Creepy Keepy.
Shaking off my disquiet, I pondered my present situation. I could return home and smooth the relationship with my mother. Or I could travel to the coast and stay with Kade. Or I could return to Fulgor to work in my factory and be close to my friends. And visit Devlen? I refused to answer that question. I also could stay here a few days and ask around. Perhaps Finn had come through the Citadel on his way to sell my blood. It was more appealing than waiting for an assignment from Bain.
Feeling better, I stopped by the guest room manager’s office to secure a room. My possessions had already been delivered. He handed me a key. Then I checked on Quartz. She grazed in the small pasture located along the back wall of the Keep, looking healthy and content. She trotted over and nuzzled me.
The Keep’s glass shop was to the east of the pasture. Mara was the shop’s manager. Light gray clouds puffed from the kiln’s chimney. The hot sweet smell of burning white coal filled the air, and a faint hum reached me. In the past, the scent alone would have drawn me in.
Instead, I passed the shop and found the Weapons Master drilling first-year students in self-defense. They worked in the training yard next to the armory, sweating in the warm sun.
A wide smile spread across Captain Marrok’s face. “Opal! Good to see you.” He shook my hand. “When did you get back?”
“This morning.”
“Have you been keeping up with your training?” he asked.
I laughed. The seasoned soldier didn’t waste time on pleasantries. His reputation as the best Weapons Master in years had been well earned. His gray hair bristled from his scalp, matching the short commands he shouted to the students. Long ropes of muscle covered his arms and his roughened hands sported a spider’s web of scars.
“I’m keeping fit,” I said. If he counted Valek’s special training, then I was in good shape.
“Yeah? Care to prove it to me?”
“Not today, I’ve only had a few hours’ sleep last night.”
“Tomorrow then. Right after breakfast.”
“Yes, sir!”
With a mock salute, he returned to work, encouraging students and demonstrating moves. I stayed by the fence until the session ended. Students gathered practice swords and milled about.
Deep down, I recognized my procrastination. Why was I avoiding the glass shop? I had designed it. I had ordered all the equipment. I had helped get the kiln running. A lot of memories resided in there. The answer to my question snapped in my mind. I worried those recollections would ambush me and I wasn’t strong enough to fight my way through them.
Utter nonsense. Determined, I walked toward the building, focusing on the good times, remembering when Piecov had spilled a wheelbarrow full of lime, coating everything with white powder.
“Um. Excuse me,” a boy called from behind me.
I turned. One of the first-year students hustled closer. He skidded to a stop about an arm’s length away. Uncertainty filled his gaze. I guessed his age to be around fourteen.
“Are you Opal Cowan?” he asked. His voice cracked midsentence.
“Yes. Can I help you?”
Sudden resolve hardened his features. His hand dipped into his pocket, and the distinctive snick of a switchblade sounded. “Yes. You can die!”
18
I STEPPED BACK, KEEPING MY HANDS IN SIGHT AS THE student advanced. He held the switchblade in front of him, signaling his unfamiliarity with the weapon. When he stabbed it toward my neck, I blocked his arm so the blade missed. Then I grabbed his wrist with both my hands while turning to the side, yanking him off balance. Now I had control of his weapon and his arm. Basic knife defense.
Finding a point on his wrist, I applied a little pressure. He yelped and the switchblade dropped to the ground. I pulled his thumb back and he went down on his knees in pain.