“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“No need to be snippy.”
“Leif, word is spreading. Fast. I need to find a cure before all my enemies come after me.”
Hale called that dinner was ready.
Leif tossed the currycomb at me. “Good enough.”
I caught it, then finished brushing the knots from Kiki’s tail. He might be satisfied with “good enough,” but my Kiki deserved perfection.
When I finally finished, Leif was asking Hale what he thought of the gust-of-wind gait between slurps of a bread-and-cheese soup.
“It was...incredible,” Hale said, smiling for the first time since I’d met him. “Like nothing else.”
“Not many people have experienced it. You’re in rare company, Skippy.”
His smile dimmed and Hale focused on his bowl.
“Leif, how old are you?” I asked.
He creased his brow in confusion. “You know my age. I’m two years older than you.”
“Then act like it. Stop calling Hale names.”
“Do you know how many names Mr. Hale called me while we were in the Keep together?” Leif asked. “Dozens.”
“And you were an annoying teenager who hated the world,” I reminded him.
“Doesn’t mean I deserved it.”
“No one deserves it. There just comes a time when you need to forgive and move past it. We’re going to be together for weeks. Can you try to be civil?”
Leif pouted, reminding me of Janco. “I guess, but only if I can have another bowl of the soup.”
If only smoothing relations between Sitia and Ixia was this easy. I could retire.
“Since we will be traveling for a while, perhaps this is a good time to share with you the extent of my magic,” Hale said.
Leif opened his mouth, but I shot him a look and he wisely kept quiet.
“That would be helpful.” I encouraged Hale to continue.
“It seemed only fair, considering I’m very familiar with Leif’s powers and your...er...current situation, Yelena.”
Warning signals rang in my head, and I moved my hand closer to my switchblade without thought.
If Hale noticed, he didn’t react. “You see, while I’m able to construct null shields in record time, light fires and communicate with my mind, I’m also able to hear.”
“Hear what?” I asked.
“Hear with my magic, meaning I heard your whispered conversation with Captain Romas and your discussion with Leif by the horses.”
“Whoa, I didn’t know you could do that,” Leif said.
“After the Ixian takeover, the Master Magicians decided not to advertise all their students’ powers in case the Commander attacked us or another one of our own attempted to overthrow the Council. Since spies are always a concern, it was a sound strategy.”
I agreed, but if Hale had this ability, could he be the one who’d informed the Council about me?
“I only use it when necessary,” Hale said as if he’d read my thoughts. “I believed the encounter with the captain might not go in our favor, so I listened to be ready to act.”
Smart.
“And what he said made sense. I’d already determined something was very wrong. Why would you need to be protected by a null shield? You’re the most powerful magician—”
“That would be Bain,” I said.
He shook his head. “Who else calls Master Bloodgood...Bain?”
“Uh, Irys?”
“And who calls Master Jewelrose...Irys?”
Only Bain and me. “Okay, you made your point.”
“Face it, sis. You’re in elite company.” Leif bumped my arm.
“You call them by their first names all the time.” I swatted his shoulder.
“Not in their presence.”
“This is a pointless argument. I’m no longer a magician.”
“For now,” Leif said.
“How did it happen?” Hale asked.
He had the right to know. We could be attacked again and both Leif and Hale could lose their powers. I explained about the arrow.
“Never heard of a substance with that ability.” Hale worried his bottom lip.
“If you wish to return to the safety of the Citadel, go ahead. I wouldn’t blame you. We should have been up-front about it from the beginning, but I was too...” Terrified.
“I think I’m safer with you than at the Citadel,” Hale said.
“I’m not so sure about that, Skip...er...Hale. She seems nice now, but wait until you’re part of one of her crazy schemes,” Leif said.
Here we go.
“One time, I was bait for a necklace snake—”
“What is it with you and that story?” I demanded. “You survived, didn’t you? We rescued our father, didn’t we? And as I recall, I was the one who ended up wrapped in the coils of an amorous necklace snake.”
Leif huffed. “It’s a good story if you don’t ruin it with all those little details.”
I gazed up at the stars, seeking patience with my brother. Moon Man, my Sandseed Story Weaver, was up there in the sky probably laughing his deep laugh. Despite the six years since his death, I missed him just as much now as I had then. He’d probably spout some cryptic advice on how to solve my problem. But this time, I would welcome it.
* * *
Two days later we entered the city limits of Fulgor. The city was the capital of the Moon Clan lands and also where Opal and Devlen lived and worked. The bustle on the streets was dissipating as the sky darkened.
“We can stay with Opal. She’s like my mother-in-law and loves having company. Plus she can cook.”
“Not a good idea,” I said. “We might attract the wrong element.”
“No problem. Opal’s deadly with her sais, and Devlen knows how to swing a sword.”
“And Reema, your niece? Or have you forgotten about her?”
“Ah, that little scamp knows how to stay out of trouble. One time she helped me finish a pie, but when Opal discovered us... Poof! Reema was gone. Snug in her bed as if she didn’t have cherry juic
e staining her lips.”
“I’m sure Opal won’t be happy to see me,” Hale said drily.
“True. If you weren’t all stiff and haughty and nasty—”
“I wasn’t there to be her friend. I had my orders from the Council.”
“That’s enough, boys.” I glanced around at the buildings. Factories mixed with businesses and homes—typical Sitian hodgepodge. “I’d like to keep as low a profile as possible. Let’s find an inn for the night and visit your in-laws in the morning.”
Leif perked up. “I know the perfect place.”
We stopped at the Second Chance Inn. I gave Leif a questioning look over the name of the place.
“Second-best chef in town works here,” he said.
Figures.
“Who’s the best?” Hale asked.
“Guy named Ian, who owns a tavern called the Pig Pen. We’ll go tomorrow. Wait until you taste his beef stew. After a mouthful, you’ll never be able to eat another’s stew again because the rest will taste like crap in comparison.”
I ignored my brother as I helped the stable lad with the horses. The stalls were clean and the air smelled of fresh hay. Happy that they would be well cared for, I joined Leif and Hale in the inn’s common room. We rented two rooms, one for me and Leif and the other for Hale.
The next morning, we left Hale to make inquiries about the recent prison break from Wirral as we took a circuitous route to Opal’s glass factory.
“It’s a nice place,” Leif said. “She has four kilns on the ground floor and upstairs are the living quarters. Of course, it gets superhot in the warmer seasons, but they don’t seem to mind the heat. I guess it’s because she’d worked in a glass factory almost all her life and he grew up in the Avibian Plains.”
Leif continued to prattle on while I kept an eye out for anyone following us. No visible sign of anyone. When we reached the factory, the outer door was unlocked. Inside a young woman sat behind a desk in a receiving area that had been a storefront at one point in time. “Can I— Oh, Leif. Nice to see you again. Go on back.” She waved us toward a door behind her that said Employees Only. Fancy.
Leif opened the door and the roar of the kilns slammed into me. He pointed to a thick gray foam coating the inside of the door. “Soundproofing.”