Spy Glass. Maria Snyder V.

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Spy Glass - Maria Snyder V.

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Council sessions in my stolen body. When she voted on policy and laws. Not one!”

      “She was protected by a null shield,” I tried to explain.

      “That only blocks magical attacks. We have different personalities. How could they not suspect something was wrong?”

      I swallowed the huge knot in my throat. “They knew something wasn’t right. They probably worried about it, and they also probably found logical explanations for all your new quirks.”

      Tama remained doubtful. “Come on. They’re intelligent men and women.”

      “You called me smart. Do you believe it?”

      “Of course.”

      “I wasn’t smart enough to figure out Devlen’s soul was in Ulrick’s body, and I was dating Ulrick.” I told her my story. “He was bolder, more confident, and there were other clues, as well. But I didn’t even question him. I justified each and every one. Try not to be so hard on the Council and Master Magicians. I’m sure they feel horrible, and I’d bet my sister’s favorite skirt that Bain sent you the finest protector.”

      Her lips parted, but no words escaped. I couldn’t tell if she thought I was an idiot or if she pitied me. Good thing I didn’t tell her that Devlen had managed to do what Ulrick couldn’t while we dated. Sleep with me.

      “I’ll have to think about it,” she said.

      “That’s a start.” I said good-night and moved to leave.

      “Opal?” She touched my shoulder.

      I stifled a yelp as magic burned through the fabric of my shirt.

      “Thanks for sharing your story.”

      I nodded because if I opened my mouth I would cry out.

      “See you tomorrow.” She pulled her hand away.

      I left her office and waved to Nic and Eve as I hurried through the reception area. Once I reached the deserted hallway, I sagged against the wall, and rubbed my shoulder. Magic coated Tama’s skin. Since she wasn’t a magician, it had to be Zebb’s. If he protected her, she’d be surrounded by a null shield. He was either trying to manipulate her or spy on her. Either way I just lost Mara’s favorite skirt.

      Exhaustion soaked into my bones. I couldn’t deal with this magician right now. I pushed away from the wall and descended to the lobby. Plenty of guards milled about, but most of the staff had gone for the day. I signed out.

      The lamplighters had lit the streets of Fulgor. Soft yellow light flickered. Shadows danced. Groups of townspeople talked and laughed as they headed toward taverns or their homes. I should stop at the Pig Pen for a late supper and to listen to the gossip, but fatigue dragged on my body.

      I would visit the taverns tomorrow as well as join the soldiers for their early-morning training. When I arrived at the Second Chance Inn, I checked on Quartz. She munched on hay, but poked her head over the stall door so I could scratch behind her ears. With eyes half-closed, she groaned in contentment. Then she moved, presenting other areas for me to scratch until I dug my nails into her hindquarters. Spoiled horse.

      “A Sandseed horse. Figures,” a man said with a sneering tone.

      I turned. A tall man leaned against one of the stable’s support beams. His crossed arms and relaxed posture the exact opposite of the strain in his voice.

      “Excuse me?” I grabbed the handles of my sais. Magic enveloped me for a moment then receded. I stayed still despite the desire to bash him on the head with the shaft of my weapon.

      “Some people get all the luck,” the magician said. “Sandseed horses and special treatment even when they’re no longer special.”

      He appeared to be unarmed, but his combative tone set off warning signals. I drew my weapons, keeping them down by my side. “My mother believes I’m special.”

      He snorted. “She would.”

      I’d had enough. “Is there a point to this conversation? Otherwise, you’re wasting my time.”

      “I want to know what you’re doing here.”

      “I’m checking on my horse.”

      “Cute. Let me rephrase the question. Why are you bothering Councilor Moon?”

      Bothering. Interesting word choice. “It’s none of your business.”

      “It is my business. I’ve been assigned to protect her.”

      Ah. Zebb. “Then go ask her.”

      He straightened and stepped toward me. A tingle of fear swept my body. He wore a short cloak over dark pants and knee-high boots. No visible weapons.

      “I already know the lies you fed her. Came to visit and stayed to help. What a sweet little girl,” he mocked. “Except I know there is nothing sweet about you. You destroyed the entire communications network in Sitia. You’re persona non grata with the Council, the Master Magicians and most of Sitia. Let me ask you again. Why are you here? Who sent you?”

      “I’m not a threat to Tama, so it’s still none of your business.”

      “I disagree.”

      I shrugged, trying to project a casualness I didn’t feel.

      “Doesn’t matter. You’re going to tell me.”

      I braced for a magical attack, but nothing happened. “Why would I?”

      He held up one of my glass messengers. The ugly goat reflected the weak lantern light. I could no longer see if the interior of the goat glowed with magic or not. The glass no longer sang to me. Emptiness filled my chest.

      “Because if you don’t tell me, I’m going to broadcast the news of your immunity to every magician who still has one of these, which includes the Master Magicians and all the Councilors’ bodyguards.” He brandished the messenger in my face.

      “I was going to tell them eventually. You’d be saving me the trouble.” I kept my voice even.

      “Trouble is what you’re going to be in when I tell them you came here to assassinate Councilor Moon.”

      Chapter Five

      “THAT’S A LIE,” I SAID, LETTING MY OUTRAGE COLOR my tone.

      “Too bad there are only a few precious glass messengers left,” Zebb said. “Otherwise, you could tell them the fast way. But a message sent by courier will take five days. And, really, who would believe you over a magician assigned by Master Bloodgood?”

      I assessed the magician. Sandy brown hair fell in layers around his face and the tip of his nose looked as if someone had pushed it down toward his upper lip. He wasn’t bluffing.

      “That’s blackmail,” I said.

      “No. I’m protecting the Councilor.”

      I

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