Shatterglass

Keth slumped into the rooms sole, rickety chair. I dont think they will.He looked down at his clasped hands. dont know what Dema can do if the Keepers wont help.

Tris leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. neither,she admitted.

For a long moment Keth was silent. Finally he said, need to get back to work on the lightning globes. Ill make them clear sooner. Ill make one that will show us his face.

sleep,Tris advised. anyway. Weve a long day tomorrow.

Her breezes reported back to her all through the night. They brought Tris nothing.

In the morning Tris ma de sure that Glaki, Chime and Little Bear were comfortable in the workshop at Touchstone Glass with Keth. He had agreed to watch them while Tris ran some necessary errands. Once she had purchased breakfast for the group Tris headed back up the Street of G lass, dodging two brawling prathmun whose wagons had collided. Other pedestrians and riders swerved around the brawlers as if they didnt even see them.

The skies were clear; the brooklets that had run in the gutters were shrinking. The city sparkled, rinse d clean for the moment. Atop the two hills ahead, the white marble structures of Heskalifos and the Assembly gleamed like hope and dignity given shape. For the hundredth time Tris wondered how Dema had fared with the Keepers of the Public Good. She was al most positive that she and Keth had been right, that the Keepers would not shut Khapik down, but she wanted very badly to be mistaken.

At Jumshidas, Tris found her hostess seated at the breakfast table, reading a book. s still abed,she told Tris. made a late night of it, at Serenity House.

Tris frowned. was he doing there?

Arurim dhaskoi, Nomasdina? He came to us for reinforcements for when he talked to the Keepers yesterday. I felt badly for him,Jumshida said, peeling an orange, he s so obsessed with catching the Ghost that he forgets what truly matters here in Tharios. I tried to remind him of the duty he owes his clan, but he would have none of it. He convinced Niko to go to the Keepers with him. The Keepers didnt see them until after midnight. I think it was the third hour after that when Niko returned to us.

you know if the Keepers listened?asked Tris.

Jumshida shrugged. said nothing to me, but I would be much surprised if they changed the way we have done things for a thousand years, just to meet a temporary emergency.She met Triss eyes with her own grey-green ones. We are great believers in time, here in Tharios,she explained. and the eternal balance of things.

The cook walked into the room with a tea tray. rang for this,the woman explained.

Ll take it up,Tris offered. The cook was more than happy to relinquish the heavy tray to her, and Tris was more than happy to get away from Jumshida, before the woman patronized her any more. Shee r survival over centuries isnt a guarantee of virtue, Tris fumed as she climbed the stairs. Its just a guarantee that nothing will change for the better!

Niko was busily cleaning his teeth when Tris came in and set the tray on a table. said you went with Dema,she said as Niko spat, rinsed, and spat again. the Keepers do anything?

he informed her waspishly, throwing down his facecloth. will not close Khapik. They said it would alarm the populace and cause financial hards hip to those who work there. They will not intercede with the priesthood of the All-Seeing to let the arurim dhaskoi or even me work seeing-spells over the dead. They will not risk the purity of the city and of the conference. Even though I am a foreigner, they will protect me for my own good. Arrogant, hide-bound, unimaginative

He might have gone on, but Tris interrupted. Yali, the woman who came here to see if Keth was all right? She was the most recent victim.

Niko sighed. Dema told me.He took the cup of tea Tris handed to him.

she left a foster-daughter, the child of one of the other dead women. I mean to stay with the little girl her names Glaki until some provision is made for her. I dont think she ought be left to the other women in the lodging house, and Keth wants to concentrate on the globes.

he Glakis father?Niko asked, sipping his tea.

Tris hadnt thought of that. She considered it, then shook her head. s Tharian clean through. Anyway, Im back for some clothes, and I wanted to ask about scrying again.Tris smoothed a wrinkle in her dress. I sent my breezes through Khapik last night, to let me know if they heard a woman being strangled, but it doesnt work very well. Has anyone arrived yet who can see things on the winds?

Are still determined to learn?asked Niko. after all Ive told you?

survive being pelted with images,Tris pointed out. hasnt driven you mad though you can be quite odd, when you put your mind to it.

Niko sat on his bed and looked at her. much of it means nothing,he pointed out. much of it you dont even really see because its gone in a flash. The headaches are ferocious. Every account I ve read of wind-scrying compares it to seeing the future, and the grief involved in that I know all too well.

Tris sat next to him. anyone come who knows it?she asked again. these women deserve better than to have a monster pick them off one by one while those who should protect them say it s all right if they die, as long as they dont spread the pollution of their deaths around. I could go as mad from not being able to help as I could from being drowned in visions.

Niko sighed. looking at and through a particular breeze, clearing your vision as you clear your mind. According to what Ive read, you should first begin to see colours, then movement. . . Tris, you do realize that only one mage in thousands can do this? One in a generation?

have to try,replied Tris, her voice low but passionate. She wouldnt meet his eyes, but stared at her hands, fisted in her skirt. s not right, whats happening here.

Niko stood and went to the trunk of books he carried everywhere he travelled, opened it, and pushed back the lid. These were the texts of his craft of seeing, volumes on ambient and academic magic, and other books which helped him in the exercise of his own power. He brought out a small, leather-bound volume closed with a strap and a catch, lifted it in his hand as if weighing it, then held it out to Tris. it. There are exercises that may help. The writer could scry the wind.