Spy Glass

Praise for New York Times bestselling author

MARIA V. SNYDER

‘This is one of those rare books that will keep readers dreaming long after they’ve read it.’

—Publishers Weekly, starred review, on Poison Study

‘This rare sequel to live up to the promise of its predecessor, Magic Study is a wonderful combination of romance and fantasy.’ —Audible.com Editor’s Pick: Best of 2006, Romance

‘Snyder delivers another excellent adventure, deftly balancing international and local hostilities against Yelena’s personal struggles.’

—Publishers Weekly on Fire Study

‘With new magic and new people introduced in Storm Glass, Ms Snyder has a fertile new landscape to mine for us. I cannot wait.’ —Fallen Angel Reviews, a Recommended Read

‘A compelling new fantasy series.’

—SFX magazine on Sea Glass

‘Inside Out surprised and touched me on so many levels. It’s a wonderful, thoughtful book full of vivid characters and a place—Inside—that is by turn alien and heart-breakingly familiar. Maria V. Snyder is one of my favourite authors, and she’s done it again!’ —New York Times bestselling author Rachel Caine

Also by New York Times bestselling author

Maria V. Snyder

The Chronicles of Ixia

POISON STUDY

MAGIC STUDY

FIRE STUDY

STORM GLASS

SEA GLASS

SPY GLASS

The Insider series

INSIDE OUT

OUTSIDE IN

Avry of Kazan series

TOUCH OF POWER

SCENT OF MAGIC

www.miraink.co.uk

Spy Glass

Maria V. Snyder

www.miraink.co.uk

For Bob Mecoy, agent extraordinaire.

Without your encouragement and frequent feedback on this one, it would never have been finished.

Acknowledgements

A huge thank-you to my husband, Rodney, and children, Luke and Jenna. Their encouragement and support never wavers.

During the writing of my books, I’m thankful to have a wonderful network of supporters. My critique partner, Kimberley J. Howe, is always willing to read and comment on my first drafts. My friend Judi Fleming has encouraged me in many ways. Our contest to see who could write the most words in a day was what I needed to finish the story. Thanks for the incentive and the wine!

After visits to Harlequin’s Toronto, New York City and London offices, I was amazed to learn how many people are involved in getting my manuscript transformed into a published book. I like to thank them all for their hard work and effort on my books!

My excellent editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey, thankfully continues to give me invaluable advice and inspiration. Thanks to Elizabeth Mazer, a vital member of our team.

The art department has done a fantastic job with this bright cover. Many thanks to all the talented artists, designers and photographers for your creative efforts.

A special thank you to my friend Kathy Flowers. She arranged for me to take a tour of a maximum security prison and then played tour guide for the day. It was an enlightening experience and a bit scary as we mingled with the inmates. And a shout out to the Black Sergeant, visitor number one-three-six-five thanks you for your time.

And a huge thanks to my massive army of Book Commandos! Your efforts have helped in spreading the word about my books. Special mention to those who have gone above and beyond the call to duty: Louise Bateman, Justin Boyer, Elizabeth Earhart, Michelle Gottier, Jane Gov, Jimmy Grogan, Jen Grzebien, Kelley Hartsell, Kate Ladd, Heather Lloyd, Denise Löchtermann, James Pellow, Kelly Plaia, Erica Rowe, Greg Schauer, Laura Schibinger, Jessica Scott, Larry Smith, Ashlen Stevenson, Julie Walsh and Sarah Weir. Valek may try to recruit you to his team.

THE TERRITORY OF IXIA

Chapter One

CROUCHING IN THE DARKNESS OF THE CLOSET, I STILLED as footsteps approached. My instincts screamed to run. I stared at the thin ribbon of light under the door, shadows of shoes paused. I silently urged them to walk away. All I wanted was one day of peace. One day. The knob turned. No luck. With a whoosh of fresh air, my hiding spot was exposed.

“For sand’s sake, Opal, what are you doing in there?” my mother asked.

I suppressed a sigh. The truth—hiding from her—wouldn’t help. “Looking for my boots?”

Her scowl deepened as she pushed back a lock of graying hair. “They’re on your feet.”

I straightened. “Oh…yes…well.”

“Come. There are a thousand things we need to do, and you’re wasting time.” She shooed me through my room and downstairs to the kitchen. “Sit and read me the guest list while I cook lunch.”

My gaze swept the long wooden table filled with paper, swatches of fabric, lace, sequins, sewing patterns and half-completed decorations—enough clutter to force us to eat in our formal dining room. I cursed my sister Mara under my breath. Before returning to work at the Magician’s Keep’s glass shop, Mara had asked our mother to plan her and Leif’s wedding, trusting her with everything. Smart girl. She remained a safe five-day journey away from Mother’s all-consuming new passion.

When I failed to sit at the table, she stabbed a spoon at the chair. “Guest list, Opal.”

“You’ve been over it a hundred times.”

“I want to be certain—”

“You haven’t missed anyone. It’s perfect. Stop worrying.”

She dried her hands on her apron. The stained white fabric covered her chest and long skirt. “Do you have something better to do? Did I interrupt your moping time?”

“I’m not moping.” My voice whined. Not a good sign.

“Resting, recuperating, moping, it’s all the same.” She hauled a kettle filled with water over to the glowing coals in the hearth.

“No it isn’t. A lot has happened—”

She pished at me. My own mother!

“Stop wallowing in the past. What’s done is done. Focus on the future. We only have one hundred and fifty-three days until the wedding! Then it’s only a matter of time for grandchildren and maybe you and Kade…?”

Yanking the chair out with a loud scrape, I plopped on it. I snatched the list from the pile and read names aloud as my mother continued to bustle about the kitchen. She had mentioned Kade almost every day since I’d arrived. Sixty-three days of missing him, dodging her questions and being drafted to help with preparations for an event two and a half seasons away. How could one woman be so irritating? For a second I wished for another family. A sensible one without all this…stuff, like the Bloodrose Clan, living in austere isolation.

“Opal, stop making that face.”

I glanced over the list, but her back was to me. Long strands of hair had sprung from the knot she had tied this morning. She rolled dough with quick efficiency.

“How did you know?”

“I’m your mother. I see all. Hear all. Know all.”

I laughed. “If that’s true, then why do you ask me so many questions?” Ha. Got her!

Her hands stilled. She turned to me. “Because you need to hear the answers.”

My father’s arrival saved me from a retort I didn’t have. He filled the room with his large frame. Even though most of his short hair had turned gray, he still looked young. My brother, Ahir, bounded in behind him. A mirror image of our father except Ahir’s thick black hair brushed his shoulders.

“Hey, mop top,” I said to Ahir.

“What’s up, peanut?” He smirked.

I used to tower over him, but now he was six inches taller than my own five-foot-seven-inch height.

Before I could throw another insult at him, he handed me an aqua-green glass vase. “New recipe. Look at the clarity. Sharp.”

I examined the glass in the sunlight. The cold crystal felt dead in my hands. No throb of potential. No song vibrated in my chest. Nothing. My glass magic was gone. Although painfully aware of my loss, a small part of me hoped to feel a spark every time I touched glass…only to be disappointed each time.

“Working with this melt is pure joy,” Ahir said. “Let’s go over to the factory, I’ll gather a slug for you to try.”

I gave him a tight smile, letting him know I saw through his blatant attempt to interest me in creating with glass again. But no magic equaled no passion. Before Yelena had uncovered my abilities, I hadn’t known about the magic. It had been masked by my desire to create. Now, the inert lump in my hand was just another reminder of my useless existence.

“I think I’ll go for a ride instead.” Returning the vase to Ahir, I left the kitchen. My mother’s protests about missing lunch followed me to the shed.

My family owned an eight-kiln glass factory, not horses. However, when I decided to stay for a while, my father cleaned out the shed, converting it into a temporary stable for Quartz. The small enclosure had room to hang my tack and saddle, and to give Quartz shelter from bad weather. Being a Sandseed horse, she preferred to graze in the Avibian Plains bordering our land.

No one would dare bother a Sandseed horse in the plains. I scanned the tall grasses. They swayed with the wind. The reds, yellows and oranges of the cooling season had faded into the gray and brown dullness of the cold season. I shivered, thinking of the miserable weather yet to come. Believe it or not, I had been anticipating this time of year. The fierce storms on the coast had abated. Kade planned to spend a few weeks with me, until the Commander of Ixia had invited him to demonstrate his Stormdancing powers, taming the killer blizzards blowing from the Northern Ice Sheet.

Kade had invited me along, except I hated the cold and would rather not be anywhere near the ice sheet. Plus what would I do there? I would have no job other than keeping Kade’s bed warm. Well…That wouldn’t be a chore at all. I smiled, but sobered. Despite my mother’s intentions, my one reason for being home wasn’t to help with Mara and Leif’s wedding. I needed to make a decision.

Unease twisted. My bad decisions outweighed my good ones by two to one. I had a thirty-three percent chance of getting it right. Dismissing those useless thoughts, I stepped into the plains to search for Quartz.

After I traveled a hundred feet, magic pressed on my skin as if I pushed against a giant sponge. I waited for the pressure to dissipate as the protection determined I wasn’t a threat. It was usually suicidal to walk into the plains without permission from the Sandseed Clan. Their defensive magic would confuse me, sending me into a panic, convinced I was lost. This time, my new immunity blocked the Sandseed’s magic. I could sense it, but it registered my presence as a magical void. Nice perks, yet…

Without my glass magic, I felt as if a chunk of my soul had been sliced off. I had no regrets over my actions, sacrificing my powers had been the right choice. So if I wasn’t moping, then why the ache? Why did I feel trapped in the shadow world?

All maudlin thoughts vanished when Quartz trotted into view. Considered a painted mare, her coat was a patchwork of white and auburn colors. The darker color covered her face, except for a white star between her soft brown eyes. Forgoing a saddle and bridle, I hopped onto her back and left my worries and Mother’s wedding plans far behind.

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 wedding 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.

Chapter Two

I GAPED AT VALEK. HE STOOD ON OUR FRONT STEP within 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.

The best course of action would be to stay far away from the Council. But what would I do? No glass magic and no desire to craft vases, bowls and tumblers. Planning Mara and Leif’s wedding for the next two and a half seasons would be torture. And I would know, having had personal experience with torture.

I had to face it. I couldn’t make this decision alone. Yelena had already figured it out, but why didn’t she come to help me? She was the liaison between Ixia and Sitia—a neutral third party and my friend. Instead, she sent Valek. The most dangerous man in the world.

A strange notion popped into my head. Was I the most dangerous woman in the world? I laughed. My few past attempts at stealth had mixed results—almost caught and almost killed. Not an impressive track record.

By morning, no sudden insight had flashed. Guess I would rely on my instincts. A truly terrifying prospect.

Valek arrived on time and was the perfect gentleman as my father showed him the factory and his laboratory. The half-completed experiments in the lab fascinated Valek. He asked many questions, and, by the end of the tour, Father helped Valek gather a slug of molten glass to play with. Wielding the metal tweezers in competent fingers, Valek shaped the slug into a lifelike daisy. I had forgotten Valek’s sculpting skills with rocks.

Blue eyes lit with enthusiasm, he said, “Opal, you never told me how extraordinary glass is.”

The few times we had interacted had been during crisis situations. No need to reminisce. Especially not with my parents nearby.

After my mother rushed off to prepare dinner and Father returned to puttering in his lab, Valek and I took a walk, heading in no particular direction.

“Have you thought about why Yelena sent me?” he asked.

“All night.”

“That would explain the dark circles under your eyes.”

Trust Valek to notice.

He paused. “But not why you look so…tired. Are you still having nightmares about them?”

Them, as in the seven glass prisons. Despite trapping those evil souls inside glass, their voices had haunted my dreams. The closer I had traveled to one, the louder the voice and the stronger the influence over me became. Valek had hidden them, telling no one their locations, but I could find them. Well, not anymore.

“No. Without magic my connection to them is gone,” I said.

“Then why so tired?” He kept his expression neutral.

“The incident in Hubal drained me. I’m still recovering.” The truth.

“I see.” He continued walking with a smooth stride. “I’ve read the reports about Hubal. Nasty business.”

“The records are supposed to be sealed. How did—”

“Because of Janco’s unfortunate and illegal involvement, I had full access to them.” Annoyance colored his tone.

Janco was one of Valek’s second-in-commands. “He shouldn’t get into trouble. I asked for his help. It’s not—”

“His fault?”

I nodded.

“Asking for help isn’t the problem. It never is. Janco should have brought your message to my attention, and we should have decided on the best course of action. Instead, he left without permission and without telling us where he went. Plus he made an illegal border crossing.”

“But…”

Valek waited.

“I hope you didn’t demote him.”

“What happened to him in Hubal was punishment enough. That blood magic is extremely potent. Yelena explained how it works, but I don’t fully understand why Ulrick and Tricky needed your blood.”

I glanced at him. Was he pretending to be confused? No way to tell. The man had the best poker face in the world.

“When I had my glass magic, if a magician attacked me, I could transform his magic into glass. Even if he didn’t attack, I could siphon…steal all his powers if I so desired. But Tricky discovered that I couldn’t drain him because he used my blood to increase his powers.”

“So your blood protected them from your siphoning magic?”

“Yes. At first, but when Zitora was dying and I was desperate, I realized my blood tattooed in their skin connected us. To draw off all their powers, I had to drain my own, as well.” I rubbed the scars on my arms. Not completely healed, the vertical ridges pulsed with an angry reddish-purple color, and resembled rungs on a ladder that climbed up the inside of my arms. A souvenir from Hubal.