The Glass Magician

“Briefly.”


After they had situated themselves and the buggy began to move, Emery asked, “Is there anything else I need to know, anything you’ve neglected to tell me?”

Ceony shook her head. “No. Except I lost your glider. That’s how I got to the barn.”

“Hmm,” he replied, nodding. “I hope you closed the roof.”

She hadn’t.

They sat in silence, Ceony wringing her skirt until one of its buttons threatened to pop off. Emery noticed, for he placed a hand over hers to still the destruction.

“I’m not one to dump my autobiography on others,” he said, his gaze on her hands, “but I’ve lost a number of things in my life—important things—and I have no desire to add you to that list, Ceony. Despite what you may think, I do care about you. My stewardship as your mentor aside, I’ve made your well-being my personal priority.”

Ceony’s pulse quickened at those words. Her chest felt hot.

Emery rested back against the buggy’s seat. “Your family is safe, as promised. They’ll be looked after until everything is settled.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re going to stay with Magician Aviosky for a while; she’s agreed to the arrangement and will ensure your safety,” he added. “I’m sure Delilah will appreciate the company.”

Ceony had been about to ask after Delilah, but she reprocessed and said, “Why will I be staying with Magician Aviosky? Where will you be?”

She glanced back at the suitcase, then out the window, scanning the shops they passed: Briggs’ Pharmacy, Wolf’s Pencils. This wasn’t the way to Mg. Aviosky’s home. She watched the buildings and street signs glide past them, illuminated by the morning sun, and felt her whole body sink. “You’re leaving. We’re going to the train station.”

“Very astute,” Emery said.

She turned to him in her seat. “Where are you going? What are you going to do?”

He didn’t look at her. “The same thing I’ve done for years.”

“You’re going after Grath,” she hissed, keeping her voice low to prevent the driver from overhearing. “You’re going after him yourself, and after you scolded me about it!”

He turned toward her, his face hovering very close to her own. “This is different, Ceony. I have experience. It’s a decision that was made on behalf of Criminal Affairs. And I’m not going after Grath.”

Ceony’s anger stripped away in jagged pieces, replaced with quivering fear. “Saraj,” she whispered. “You’re going after Saraj.”

He frowned, but nodded.

The buggy pulled up beside the train station just as a clock stand on the sidewalk chimed the eighth hour.

Ceony grabbed Emery’s arm to keep him from leaving. “No, Emery!” she pleaded, blinking back tears. “How do you even know where he is? Where will you go? How long will you be away?”

“I either don’t know or can’t tell you,” he said. He looked . . . guilty.

Ceony opened her mouth to reply, but then addressed the driver instead. “Could you step out of the auto for just a moment, please?”

The driver nodded and stepped outside, looking pleased enough with the arrangement. He pulled a fag and match from his pocket.

“I went through a lot of grief trying to keep you alive,” Ceony said, “and now you’re going to get yourself killed!”

Emery actually smiled. “You have so little faith in me.”

“You’re going after a man who can kill with a swipe of his hand!” Ceony cried. “Please reconsider. I’ll do anything. I’ll never leave the cottage again. You can transfer me, if you want. I’ll give you my stipend. Just please, please don’t go.”

Emery’s expression softened. Lifting his hand, he gently touched the bruise on Ceony’s cheek, a caress that sent chills running down her jaw and neck. “I know more about how to deal with these men than most, Ceony,” he said. “And this way, I can personally guarantee your safety. Please, trust me on this. This time, you can’t change my mind.”

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind Ceony’s ear, then pulled back and retrieved his suitcase from behind the buggy’s seat. Ceony watched him, numb and wordless. Her heart slowed in her chest. Her fingers trembled.

Emery opened the buggy door and stepped out into the sunlight.

He was going to face Saraj Prendi, on his own.

This might be the last time Ceony ever saw him.

“I do care about you.”

She stared out the glassless window as he walked toward the station, suitcase in hand, the sun spinning gold into his raven hair.

Her pulse quickened until her skin throbbed with her heartbeat. Ceony scrambled across the seat and grabbed the door latch, kicking the door open. She jumped outside, blinking the bright morning from her eyes.

Then she shouted, “If you’re going to get yourself killed, you could at least kiss me first!”