Glass Collection: Storm Glass / Sea Glass / Spy Glass. Maria V. Snyder
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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.
“I’m sorry, Opal. I have to go through the channels and make nice with the local authorities. They have hard evidence against you—I know.” She held up a hand, stopping my denial. “The Captain’s right, there is magic in play, and I intend to get to the bottom of this misunderstanding.”
“Could one of the other Masters help you with your investigation?”
Zitora smiled ruefully. “I contacted Irys. She told me—with malicious glee I’m sure—that I’m to resolve this situation on my own. Seems she thinks this a good opportunity for me to practice my diplomacy.”
I glanced around the darkening cell. Even though I was upset and disappointed, I tried to make the best of it. I didn’t have a choice, but no sense upsetting Zitora. “I have complete confidence in you. And two days is nothing.”
My bravado lasted until she left. I huddled on my cot, wrapped in my cloak, hoping a guard would light the lanterns