at the Citadel as we speak. If they decide not to press charges, we’ll probably be escorted there. I don’t think the Council will trust me again to bring you home.”
“Who would press charges?” I asked.
“Gressa owns the factory, so it would be up to her.” He paused. “I thought you said she was a fugitive.”
“She was. Something must have happened.” I considered. Gressa had been helping Councilor Moon’s sister by crafting realistic yet fake diamonds from glass. The sister had been selling these fakes to finance her efforts to overthrow the Councilor.
The Sitian Council would honor a new Moon Councilor if she had gained her position through legitimate channels. The Moon Clan had a matriarchal government. The Councilor’s oldest daughter inherited the position, but there had been times in the past when the Moon Clan’s citizens had believed another sister was a better candidate for the job. They would stage a coup, and install their chosen with little to no bloodshed. The Council viewed this as the will of the people and accepted the new Councilor.
However, if the efforts to usurp the present Councilor originated from the dissatisfied sister, and if she used illegal means to purchase weapons and bribe the townspeople, then the Council wouldn’t accept her and they would help the ousted woman regain her rightful position.
Master Magician Irys Jewelrose and Yelena had been in Fulgor to keep an eye on developments, to learn who led the unrest and to protect the Councilor. She had been convinced she was targeted for assassination, an illegal act according to the Sitian Council.
Irys’s signature on my order to return to the Citadel meant she was no longer here. The crisis must have been averted. Otherwise, if the sister had gained power, the Council would have interfered. However, neither option felt right to me.
“Do you feel the…unease in the townspeople?” I asked Janco. “Or is it just my imagination?”
“It’s not your imagination. The people around here are as tight as bowstrings. I could probably play a tune if I brushed up against enough of them.”
“What about your interaction with the guards?”
“Wary and watchful. But that’s typical behavior. I’m surprised by how civil they’ve been to me, considering I’m Ixian.”
“It’s because we don’t automatically assume you’re a vile magician intent on harm like you Ixians do when meeting a Sitian.”
Janco harrumphed. “I don’t assume that”
“No?” Doubt colored my voice.
“I assume you’re a vile magician.”
“There’s no difference.”
“Yes, there is. I don’t assume your intentions are harmful. I know no matter what your intentions are, magic causes harm to someone somewhere at some time.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re the expert on Sitians. You should have been the one appointed liaison between Ixia and Sitia instead of Yelena. Unless it’s because the Commander and the Council have at least a crumb of intelligence between them.”
“Nasty, Opal. I must have hit a nerve. Perhaps it was my ‘magic causes harm’ remark. You have plenty of experience with that.”
“Shut up.”
“As you wish.”
I brooded in silence. Dozens of examples of positive results from using magic popped into my mind. Stormdancers tamed killer storms, healers saved lives, Story Weavers helped people and my glass messengers sped up communications between the clans. All good.
My thoughts drifted and without a window in my cell, I lost track of the time. I slept on the single piece of furniture in the room—a hard metal ledge. The jangle of keys woke me. A door slammed and two guards appeared in front of my cell.
“Come on,” the guard on the left ordered. He unlocked my door.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“You’re wanted for questioning.” He swung the bars wide.
His word choice failed to hearten me. “By whom?”
“Councilor Moon’s First Adviser. Turn around.”
I hesitated and his partner stepped inside. The larger man held a pair of manacles.
Holding my hands up, I said, “They’re not necessary. I’ll cooperate.”
“Good to know,” the man with the cuffs said. “Turn around.”
He loomed over me and I wondered if towns sought bullies to hire as guards on purpose or were they naturally drawn to the job. Or perhaps the mean disposition was a side effect of the position. If I had to deal with guarding criminals all day, I would probably be surly, too.
“It’s really not—hey!”
He spun me around and pushed me against the wall. Before I could draw another breath, my wrists were shackled together behind my back.
“Sorry. Orders.” He pulled me toward the door.
He didn’t sound sorry. I tripped over the threshold and the other man steadied me before I fell into the corridor. I glanced at Janco’s cell. He stood near the door.
“What about my companion?” I asked.
“The Ixian…” The guard’s mouth twisted as if he had a piece of gristle stuck between his teeth. “Stays here.”
“But I’ll be bored and lonely without her,” Janco said.
“Not my problem. I have my—”
“Orders.” Janco rolled his eyes. “Now I know where all the truly brainless Sitians can be found. Right here with all the wimpy Sitians.”
The bully stepped toward his cell.
“Nic, stop,” the guard warned. “He’s trying to bait you.”
“Listen to your friend, Nicky.” Janco smirked. “He’s going to save you from major embarrassment. You’ll never live down getting beaten by an Ixian.” He made shooing motions with his hand. “Now run along like a good little puppy dog.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling as I remembered a lesson learned from Yelena’s brother Leif. Never underestimate the power of the pest.
Nic’s body tightened, and a slight tremor traveled through his muscles as if he fought the desire to strike out. He turned his back on Janco and strode down the corridor. An impressive display of restraint.
Disappointment creased Janco’s face.
Before the other guard could move, I said, “If you get too bored, think of a better ending to your quartz story. The rock-glowing-in-the-moonlight part didn’t make any sense. And having a meeting at midnight is such a cliché.”
“But that’s my favorite part,” Janco whined.
“Come on.” The guard wrapped his thick hand around my upper arm and led me down the corridor.
I glanced back at Janco and met his gaze. He nodded, signaling he understood my hint. If I didn’t return tonight, he would escape and meet me at Quartz and Moonlight’s stable around midnight. I smiled at the irony.
Of course, my plan included my own escape—a more doubtful prospect. The next time Janco and I had a few minutes together, I would ask him to show me how to pick a lock. It was a skill I hadn’t needed before my apprentice year at the Magician’s Keep, but, by the way trouble kept finding me these past two seasons, my lack of knowledge could be fatal.
The Masters should add lock picking to the Keep’s curriculum, but then again it could backfire on them. The Keep’s cells were warded against any magical escape, but I didn’t know how they protected against mundane methods.