“I didn’t see a market.”

“Of course not, it’s not market day. You’ll have to wait three more days.”

I didn’t have the luxury of three more days. “Do you know where Boulder Street is?”

His wheezy laugh turned into a hiccup. “Half the streets in town are named Boulder, the other half are Stone. Masons are not known for their imagination.” When he regained his breath he asked, “What are you looking for?”

I debated how much to tell him. He seemed harmless, but I’d made that mistake before. “A friend wrote me that he found a job at a new factory here. I thought I’d visit him.”

“New?” The innkeeper pulled at his bushy white sideburns as if trying to yank the information from his brain. “I don’t know about new, but someone bought the old Donner place on the eastern edge of town. It’s tucked into the woods hidden from view. We haven’t seen much activity besides a few deliveries. Figured they were renovating the inside and would be looking for workers when it was ready.”

He gave me directions to the Donner place. I decided to let Quartz nap and walked to the site. I almost missed the narrow lane leading back to the factory. Paralleling the path, I crept through the woods. Surrounded by trees, the two-story building looked ordinary at first glance. However, the stone construction and smokestack hinted a kiln might be in use. I circled the structure and spotted oversize doors. Sand and lime littered the ground as if spilled from wagons being wheeled through the doors.

“What took you so long?” Janco asked.

“I asked for directions.”

He scoffed. “Amateur.”

“Am not.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why did you let your soldier friend follow you?”

“Eve’s here?” I looked around. No wonder it was too easy. She’d played along to see where I was going.

“She’s at the inn. She tried to trail you from there, but a clumsy man with a slab of marble almost knocked her out.” Janco tsked. “By the time they untangled, you were gone.”

“Guess I am an amateur.”

“You’re more a rookie,” Janco said. “You need to learn how to spot a tail.”

Muffled voices reached us and we ducked down. I glimpsed movement through the windows of the building.

“Is that our target?” Janco asked in a whisper.

“I think so.”

“Tonight, then.”

He traveled through the woods with silent steps. I felt like a pregnant cow in comparison. Did I really want to spend hours and hours and hours learning how to be a professional sneak? No. I’d rather be lying on a beach with Kade, with all this furtive nonsense behind me and with the Warpers all safely locked away.

I crouched in the darkness. Crickets chirped and an owl hooted above me. No sounds emanated from the factory. No light glowed from the windows. When I was confident the place was empty, I snuck to a side entrance and picked the lock.

The door swung inward with a tiny squeak. Heat puffed in my face, smelling of white coal and molten glass. I lit a small lantern. The ground floor contained two standard kilns, annealing ovens, benches and tools. Glassware and vases with Gressa’s unique design lined a shelf. Why did she make them here and not at her factory in Fulgor?

In a back room I found a dozen of my messengers. The messengers still glowed with magic. Gressa had tricked me and sent my batch here instead of to the Citadel. Unexpected. Points for her.

I glanced out a window. Janco should be in position by now. After he had distracted Eve, he planned to wait outside just in case.

As I searched the mixing room and storage room, my mind tried to reason why the messengers were here. Then I almost knocked over a table filled with pyramids made from opaque glass. I picked one up.

Magic pulsed through my hands. My stomach twisted. I recognized Ulrick’s magic, and even though the opaque glass concealed the glow, I felt my own magic. They were mixed inside the pyramid.

Why? Unknown. An icy wave of dread slammed into me. I set the pyramid on a table before I dropped it. What I did know was Ulrick worked here and could be nearby. Ulrick’s warning back in Ognap replayed in my mind. I can sense you from a distance.

Which would explain why Gressa had this hidden factory. Devlen was a wanted man for his involvement in the ambush on Zitora and me long ago. Since everyone was convinced switching souls was impossible, Ulrick would have to keep a low profile in Devlen’s body.

I yanked off my backpack, tore it open and fumbled for my orb. Potential throbbed as I hugged the glass to my chest. I stood and scanned the darkness.

“Did you enjoy the tour?” Ulrick asked. He stepped from a shadowy corner. A wide smile spread on his face. “Took you long enough to put it together. You’re still oblivious to magic. You walked right past my concealing illusion without noticing a thing.”

“I can feel magic now.”

“So you can,” he agreed without concern. “What do you think of my shop?”

“Your shop? Don’t you mean Gressa’s?”

“It’s more like a family business. We’re working together.”

“And Tama is involved, too.”

“Of course.”

“Why are you experimenting with my messengers?” I asked.

“Come on, Opal. You’re not stupid. And neither is Gressa. She knew you’d eventually stop working for her.”

“Have you been able to duplicate my messengers?” I asked.




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