Sea Glass
Page 25“Fine, fine.” Ulrick pushed his plate away. He tapped the mug. “I need a refill and a shot of whiskey.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Where is Devlen now?”
“In Fulgor.”
“In prison?”
“No. He’s working for your sister.”
“Say that again.”
“No one believes me. If they do, they’re pretending they don’t like Gressa. She’s using Devlen.” A bone-deep weariness soaked into my body.
“For what?”
“I don’t know. She’s Councilor Moon’s first adviser now. Do you remember what happened when you went to her factory and confronted her about the fake diamonds?”
Ulrick raked his fingers through his hair. He had let the black strands grow past his shoulders—surprising considering he always kept his own hair short.
“She seemed impressed we had discovered her work,” he said. “I tried to convince her to fess up to the authorities and perhaps earn a lighter sentence. After that…” He quirked a rueful smile. “She bashed me on the head. When I regained consciousness, Devlen was helping me.”
“Devlen instructed me how to increase my powers. He claimed there were two Story Weavers in Ognap who could guide me, but I haven’t found them. Instead, I’ve been earning money by helping a local glassmaker. I guess he lied about the Weavers, but…” He tapped his chest. “A part of me still believes him, yet with my magic, I can sense you’re telling the truth, too.”
“The Sandseed clan was decimated five years ago by the Daviian Vermin. No Story Weavers survived. The two he mentioned are Warpers.” Before he could contradict me, I said, “Not many people know because the Sandseeds don’t want it to be made public. Yelena is helping them until one of their children develop the ability.”
The owner returned with Ulrick’s order, placing the drinks on the table before hustling off. While we talked, the room had filled with people.
Ulrick downed the whiskey in one gulp. He played with the empty glass. “You kept many things from me, but you gave Devlen, and that Stormdancer, much more. I don’t want to be with you anymore.” He tossed a few coins on the table and stood.
“I understand, but you need to come with me to Fulgor. We’ll find Devlen, and Yelena can switch you back to your own body.”
He looked at me as if I had spoken in a foreign tongue. “Switch back to a magicless body?”
“You’ll still have your glass magic. Despite what Devlen told you, your own magic stays with your soul. The added magic you have now is from blood magic, which I haven’t even explained to you yet. It’s—”
“Another one of your secrets? No more, Opal. I’m done with you.” He turned away.
I leaped to my feet, grabbed his arm and pushed his sleeve to his elbow, exposing the tattoos. “Blood has been mixed with the ink. It’s the real reason you have more power. It’s illegal.”
“Yes, I can.”
“How?” He crossed his arms and straightened to his full height.
“I can drain your magic, leaving you with nothing.” I bluffed. I wasn’t sure if I could steal blood magic. Tricky had kept his, but it was my blood, not another’s. And I didn’t know how it all worked.
He laughed. “You don’t have an orb with you.”
I picked up the shot glass. “Any glass will work.” Another bluff.
He knocked the glass from my grip. It shattered on the floor.
“Oops. Nice try, Opal.”
“I don’t have to be close to you. I can pull your magic from a distance.”
He appeared unimpressed. “A few feet? A mile?” He shrugged. “I can sense you from that distance. Besides, I have no intention of letting you get that close.” His gaze hardened and an invisible force pushed me into my seat. “I have my own defenses.”
“But first you have to find me.”
The tavern owner appeared by his side. “Something wrong?”
“Yes,” Ulrick said. “She’s causing trouble. Call the authorities and have her arrested for drunk-and-disorderly conduct.” He slipped the man a coin.
“Yes, sir.”
Ulrick strode to the door, but I couldn’t stand until he left.
The owner remained next to the table. He blocked my way. “Can I get you a drink while you’re waiting?”
“No thanks. I’m leaving.” I stepped around him and encountered two tank-size men with flat expressions. My sais would probably bend around their large shaved heads. Sighing, I returned to the table. “I’ll have a glass of wine.”
The owner inclined his head as if to say, “Wise move,” and headed toward the bar. He spoke with a young man who then sprinted from the tavern. Probably to report to the town’s security force. With the two musclemen hovering nearby, I stayed in my seat. Digging two handfuls of my little glass spiders from the pockets of my cloak, I kept them hidden in my palms. I waited for the perfect moment.