The Glass Magician

CEONY SAT IN A small lobby in the Parliament building on a red velvet chair. Overhead hung a golden chandelier three tiers high, haphazardly festooned with raindrop-shaped crystals. The statue of a long-dead politician watched her from the corner, standing between two copper-colored alcoves decorated with exotic ferns in large, ceramic vases. Tall circle-top windows—composed of smaller circle-top windows bunched together—let in the late-morning light, which shined white thanks to the thin, wispy clouds frosting the sky. The portrait of a past king who looked nothing like Edward VII stood some twelve feet high against the wall opposite the window, and long lines of gold leaf crisscrossed the ceiling. It may have been the fanciest waiting room Ceony had ever seen in her life, but it was still a waiting room.

The tall door behind her shut, underlining the fact that she was forbidden from attending the meeting with Criminal Affairs, to which both Emery and Mg. Aviosky had been invited. She frowned, the exile itching under her skin. She had dealt with Excisioners firsthand, she was the target of all this horrid hoopla, and yet she wasn’t permitted to sit in on the discussion that would determine the Cabinet’s plan of action! She would never understand the workings of the Cabinet, and she had still not forgiven Emery for not arguing on her behalf.

For not trusting me, she thought.

She passed a scornful glance to the new set of textbooks on the table beside her that Emery had instructed her to read: From Pulp to Paper: The Making of a Master Craft, Advanced Geometry, and Mammals of the Cold North, which she assumed tied into advanced animation. She harrumphed. At least she had grabbed a copy of The Railway Magazine from the reception area. The article “How Smelted Tie Plates Can Make Your Trips Smoother and Faster” looked somewhat interesting. She wondered if the writers would actually give away the new spells in the article.

Delilah, a fellow exile from the meeting, strolled over from the politician’s statue. She had been reading the plaque with apparent interest. Her hands were clasped behind her back and her yellow skirt bounced about her calves. Today she had pinned her bobbed hair behind each ear and wore lipstick. Ceony felt rather plain in comparison with the always-flamboyant Delilah, which only upset her more.

“It’s not so bad, waiting,” Delilah said.

From behind the closed doors, someone—it sounded like Mg. Hughes—shouted something unintelligible.

“See?” Delilah offered with a half smile.

Ceony sighed and gestured to the chair on the other side of her. “No, I don’t. Grath talked to me just yesterday, Delilah. I should be in there. If Magician Thane hadn’t overheard everything, I probably would be.”

Delilah’s dark eyes bugged. So, Mg. Aviosky hadn’t told her of the events in the twelfth-floor flat.

Mg. Aviosky had arrived at the apartment with Mg. Hughes yesterday afternoon, looking more disgruntled than Ceony had ever seen her. She’d confirmed that Grath shouldn’t be able to pinpoint the flat’s precise location from the mirror-to-mirror communication, though he would know they were hiding in London. Ultimately it had been Emery’s decision not to move.

It took a great deal of convincing to get Mg. Hughes to believe that Grath Cobalt had indeed revealed himself as a Gaffer. Ceony suspected the Siper’s ego still hadn’t healed from the blow. After all, if anyone should have discovered Grath’s secret, it should have been the head of Criminal Affairs.

Leaning forward and whispering, Ceony told Delilah everything, short of the stiff conversation she’d had with Emery afterward, from which she still reeled. Ceony told Delilah about the tapping, what Grath had said—verbatim—the rippling of the glass, and the blind boxes.

“And he definitely can’t find me, right?”

Delilah looked pale, but she nodded. “You can track a person down through mirror-to-mirror communication, but not so as you’d find them on a map. He knows the mirror’s signature without knowing its exact location, if that makes sense. And I think you’re safe enough now that the mirror has shattered.”

“Signature?” Ceony repeated.