Read Online The Master Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlie N. Holmberg
Ads: Link
could overhear? Then again, Zina’s knack for snooping rivaled Ceony’s own. She was angry with her sister . . . Of course she was, but her primary concern was for her family’s safety. Did Saraj know what all of them looked like? But even if Saraj hadn’t fled the country, he couldn’t have made it to London already, not on foot. And why would he go somewhere so populated? Unless he had a specific purpose in traveling to the capital . . . but Ceony couldn’t imagine what that would be, outside of finding her.
Too risky, even for him, isn’t it?
she thought.
Surely he’s fled. I shouldn’t even be trying to prove otherwise
.
Both Emery and Mg. Aviosky, people she trusted implicitly, had assured her that her family would be safe, so perhaps she should leave Criminal Affairs’ affairs be.
Still, if she had worried
more
about Delilah, perhaps things would have turned out differently. She had to know for sure.
Soon Ceony ventured off road, scanning the uncultivated lengths between the naval base and the town, searching for the things she’d tasked the birds with finding. She came across a patch of flattened grass about an hour in and, after bonding to glass, took a rubber-lined circle of the material from her purse and commanded it, “Magnify.” The glass, little larger than the front of a picture frame, immediately turned into a looking glass, enlarging the crushed grass at her feet. She found nothing unusual.
“
Criminy, Ceony, it’s like shagging the principal
,” her sister’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “
Isn’t he a divorcé?
”
Zina had said it so
loudly
. And in such crude language!
She swatted the thoughts away. “Focus on Saraj,” she chided herself. “He’s the bigger problem.”
Another half hour later, her feet growing weary, one of the white birds returned, fluttering tired wings. Ceony rebonded to paper and beckoned it down.
“What did you find, little one?” she asked, chills pricking her sun-heated shoulders. The paper songbird bounced in her hands thrice before flying westward, keeping low to the ground. Ceony hurried after it, grabbing her long skirt in her hands as she went.
The bird flew quite a distance, heading away from the road. By the time it landed on a dirt path overgrown with weeds, not far from the town line and an exposed sewer pipe, Ceony’s face had flushed red, and perspiration clung to her hairline and camisole. Ceony knew the spell for a fan that would cool her quickly, but in her excitement, she settled for waving both hands before her face.
She looked about her. Some of the weeds and wild grasses here looked trod upon and torn, as though a brawl had occurred. Something shiny caught her eye—squatting, Ceony picked up a spent bullet, smashed. It must have struck something hard—perhaps the carriage itself? But Ceony saw no wheel tracks. The bullet was etched with a targeting spell, she noticed, meaning that at least one Smelter had been on duty. Unless, of course, the bit of metal was from the naval base. Ceony doubted it.
The white bird, its wings starting to bend backward from the brisk wind, perched on a skinny vine of sunburned morning glory, half rooted from the ground. Ceony dropped to her knees and pushed aside weeds and dirt. The summer sun glinted off a brown piece of glass barely larger than her thumbnail, perhaps from a beer bottle left behind by an off-duty naval officer. She wiped a thinlayer of dust from it and saw her reflection on its smooth side—the inside of the bottle. Not a spotless reflection but adequate for her current needs.
“Good birdie,” Ceony wheezed, wiping the back of her hand over her forehead. “Cease.”
The proud bird toppled onto the ground, immobile.
Ceony held out the brown glass in her palm. She’d never attempted a mirror-based spell on something that wasn’t a mirror . . . but Gaffer spells could work on substances other than Gaffer’s glass, so it was worth a shot.
Ceony’s fingers fiddled
Too risky, even for him, isn’t it?
she thought.
Surely he’s fled. I shouldn’t even be trying to prove otherwise
.
Both Emery and Mg. Aviosky, people she trusted implicitly, had assured her that her family would be safe, so perhaps she should leave Criminal Affairs’ affairs be.
Still, if she had worried
more
about Delilah, perhaps things would have turned out differently. She had to know for sure.
Soon Ceony ventured off road, scanning the uncultivated lengths between the naval base and the town, searching for the things she’d tasked the birds with finding. She came across a patch of flattened grass about an hour in and, after bonding to glass, took a rubber-lined circle of the material from her purse and commanded it, “Magnify.” The glass, little larger than the front of a picture frame, immediately turned into a looking glass, enlarging the crushed grass at her feet. She found nothing unusual.
“
Criminy, Ceony, it’s like shagging the principal
,” her sister’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “
Isn’t he a divorcé?
”
Zina had said it so
loudly
. And in such crude language!
She swatted the thoughts away. “Focus on Saraj,” she chided herself. “He’s the bigger problem.”
Another half hour later, her feet growing weary, one of the white birds returned, fluttering tired wings. Ceony rebonded to paper and beckoned it down.
“What did you find, little one?” she asked, chills pricking her sun-heated shoulders. The paper songbird bounced in her hands thrice before flying westward, keeping low to the ground. Ceony hurried after it, grabbing her long skirt in her hands as she went.
The bird flew quite a distance, heading away from the road. By the time it landed on a dirt path overgrown with weeds, not far from the town line and an exposed sewer pipe, Ceony’s face had flushed red, and perspiration clung to her hairline and camisole. Ceony knew the spell for a fan that would cool her quickly, but in her excitement, she settled for waving both hands before her face.
She looked about her. Some of the weeds and wild grasses here looked trod upon and torn, as though a brawl had occurred. Something shiny caught her eye—squatting, Ceony picked up a spent bullet, smashed. It must have struck something hard—perhaps the carriage itself? But Ceony saw no wheel tracks. The bullet was etched with a targeting spell, she noticed, meaning that at least one Smelter had been on duty. Unless, of course, the bit of metal was from the naval base. Ceony doubted it.
The white bird, its wings starting to bend backward from the brisk wind, perched on a skinny vine of sunburned morning glory, half rooted from the ground. Ceony dropped to her knees and pushed aside weeds and dirt. The summer sun glinted off a brown piece of glass barely larger than her thumbnail, perhaps from a beer bottle left behind by an off-duty naval officer. She wiped a thinlayer of dust from it and saw her reflection on its smooth side—the inside of the bottle. Not a spotless reflection but adequate for her current needs.
“Good birdie,” Ceony wheezed, wiping the back of her hand over her forehead. “Cease.”
The proud bird toppled onto the ground, immobile.
Ceony held out the brown glass in her palm. She’d never attempted a mirror-based spell on something that wasn’t a mirror . . . but Gaffer spells could work on substances other than Gaffer’s glass, so it was worth a shot.
Ceony’s fingers fiddled
Similar Books
