Pazia entered the shop as I cleaned up.

“Did you ditch your babysitter?” she asked.

“He ditched me.”

“I see you’re still good at driving people away,” she teased. “Even Piecov bolted.”

“Funny. As much as I enjoy your attempts at humor, I need to get something to eat.” I hovered by the door.

“Hold on a minute.” Pazia strode toward the annealing ovens. Mara had bought a second oven to handle all the finished pieces. Glass needed twelve hours to slowly cool to room temperature or else it would crack or break.

“Number two is cooling. The other is done. Piecov forgot to put the sign up.”

“That boy.” She tsked. “I keep telling Mara we need a checklist.” Pazia opened the oven and gasped.

The door blocked my view. “Something break?” I asked. Even with the ovens, breakage occurred.

She pulled back and a bright light filled the room. I squinted at the round glowing object in her hands. Pazia gawked in amazement.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“Your diamond.”

“You’re kidding.” I stepped closer.

“Not this time.”

“Did you add any magic when you inserted it into the glass?”

“No. The diamond was fully charged. I just spun a globe around it.”

I glanced at the windows, hoping no one noticed the unusual glow. “Can you feel the magic?”

“It’s buzzing in my hands.” The white light shone on her face and her eyes sparkled with excitement. “This is a…super messenger! A hundred times more powerful than your animals.”

“Then try using it.”

“Don’t you want—”

“I can’t use the magic in that form.” A source of frustration, but not important at the moment.

She closed her eyes as her body stilled.

“No Greenblade bees,” I said.

A quick grin before she fisted the ball and concentrated. The tools on the gaffer’s bench floated into the air. She spun them in a circle and set them down. A pile of rags erupted into flames. Pazia opened her eyes. The blaze died. Her gaze unfocused and she appeared to be lost in her thoughts.

After a few minutes, I called her name in concern.

“Wait,” she said.

Easy for her to say—she wasn’t dying of curiosity. I fidgeted until she “woke.”

“Wow. That was…” She bounced with exhilaration. “I talked to my father. He’s coming to graduation!”

“Your father?” He lived over nine days away. “Was he near one of my messengers?”

“No. He’s a magician. He’s been so angry with me, but he promised he would come.”

“He didn’t need a messenger to hear you? You went directly to him?”

“Yes! I surprised him when I tapped on his mental defenses.”

I considered the implications. “I don’t think Yelena could reach him from here without a messenger.”

Pazia exposed the glass ball in her hand. It no longer glowed. In fact, black streaks crossed the center and cracks fractured the surface.

“The diamond has shattered. When I used up the magic, it broke,” she said. “They’re the hardest substance in the world.” She spun the ball. “Incredible.”

“And not very useful,” I said, taking the broken sphere. The diamond had splintered and couldn’t be recharged. A failed experiment.

“They’re good for onetime use. Could be useful for emergencies.” She snagged her lower lip with her teeth. “But the cost to produce them would be steep. Prohibitive for all but the very rich. My father would be able to buy a few super messengers. He would love to own the regular messengers, too. He gets so frustrated having to send a request to the station downtown and waiting for approval.”

A familiar story. However, Vasko Cloud Mist had money and political influence. “How powerful is your father?”

“He tested for Master level, but failed.”

He would be an excellent ally. “I can make a few extra messengers for him.”

“Are you allowed?”

“Why not? They’re mine. I used to sell them in a store before Yelena discovered how to use them.” I retrieved three of the ones I made yesterday and wrapped them for her to take. I could replace them tonight.

Piecov returned that evening to help me finish the messengers. The annealing ovens were loaded with them. My arms and wrists ached from the long hours of work. I arrived at my quarters with no memory of the trip.

I almost groaned out loud when I spotted my empty saddlebags on the floor, but clamped a hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t wake Kade. He slept on the couch. I tiptoed to my table. Fisk’s package remained unopened. Tearing the paper as quietly as possible, I removed the outer wrap, uncovering two books.

The first title, The History of Glassmaking in Sitia, made sense, but the other, Infamous Assassins, didn’t until I opened it. Fisk had a warped sense of humor. From the outside, it looked like a regular book. Inside, sections had been gouged from the pages, creating a nice hiding place for a switchblade and a set of lock picks.

I grasped the black handle of the weapon and triggered the blade. It shot out with a satisfying snick. Kade bolted to his feet. Air swirled around the room, then died.

“Your sais not enough?” he asked.

“No. Too easy to disarm, while this—” I brandished the blade “—is easy to hide and to surprise.” I had quoted Janco. He would be proud and obnoxious at the same time.