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He scrutinized the spiders with reluctance. “I don’t know his name or know if he is the artist. I buy the statues and the seals from him, then resell them. I’ll give you one silver for each of your spiders. They’re very lifelike.”

“They’re not for sale.” I returned them to my pocket. So far, they broke open only for me, but there could be another magician with my skills. “Does the man come every day?”

“No. Every couple of days or so he stops by with a new batch.”

“When’s the last time he came?”

The merchant eyed me with suspicion. “Why is it so important?”

I downplayed my interest. “He could be a friend of mine. I haven’t seen him in years and it’s probably not him. He’s a tall, muscular man with long black hair. His eyes are hard to forget. They’re diamond-shaped with thick eyelashes. He also has a scar on his throat.” I pointed to my neck below my left ear.

The merchant shrugged. “The guy looks like a Sandseed warrior to me.” He huffed in amusement. “Don’t know about his eyes. He’ll probably be by in the next couple of days. Do you want me to tell him you’re here?”

I thought fast. A Sandseed warrior could be one of the Warpers. “No. It’s not him. My friend’s from the Greenblade Clan. Thanks for your time.” I hurried away.

Sticking to my plan, I searched the pubs and taverns for Ulrick and the Warpers. The unsanctioned Daviian Clan had been members of the Sandseed Clan before forming their own group. Called Vermin by the Sandseeds, the Daviians used blood magic to create powerful Warpers and they tried to take control of the Sitian Council.

The Council believed the Vermin and Warpers had been exterminated, but a few had escaped.

On my way back to the Tourmaline Inn, I stopped at various stands and looked for more heart-beating statues. A few merchants carried the glass animals. The general impression of the seller remained the same. A Sandseed warrior.

A pink sparkle flashed at me a block before the inn—another stand full of jewelry, and pink tourmalines dominated the display.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” the merchant asked. “Three golds for any item. It’s the best price in town.” She held up a ring with a heart-shaped stone. In fact, multiple items contained heart-shaped tourmalines.

I glanced down the street. Carleen would have to walk this way to the market. “You know your customers.”

She smiled. “The inn lady loves her pinkies. It matches her personality and gives her joy when she wears it. Each person has a certain gemstone that…calls to them. When they wear their special stone, they’re empowered!” She thrust her fists into the air as if drawing strength from the sky.

Intrigued, I asked, “How do you know which one is for them?”

“Give me your hand.”

Dubious, I held it out. She sandwiched it between her warm palms. Her smooth skin contrasted with my roughened and burn-scarred fingers. A ripple of heat traveled up my arm. She closed her eyes. The temperature inside me intensified. A red-hot finger pierced my heart. I gasped and yanked my hand back.

She studied my face with amazement. “My goodness, you have a conflicted heart. It’s covered with storm clouds. But don’t you worry.” She patted my arm. “There was a flash of clarity and I saw your true stone.” She rummaged around her table. “I only have one, but I can get more.” Picking up a small pendant, she handed it to me.

The rich bluish-green color of the stone sparked with an iridescence. “What is it?”

“An opal.”

I stared at her in shock. “But I thought opals were black.”

“Some are, but they’re other colors, too. Try it on.” She threaded a silver chain through the loop of the pendant.

“Oh no. I can’t afford—”

“Not to buy it. Wear it and you’ll find the man of your heart.” She linked it around my neck. “Perfect. And I’ll sell it to you for two golds.”

“I don’t—”

“I’ll include the chain.”

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t—”

“Sold,” a familiar voice next to me said. He dropped two gold coins into the merchant’s palm. “After all, it already worked. You were looking for the man of your heart, and now you’ve found him.”

7

MY AUTOMATIC REACTION WAS TO GRAB THE HILTS OF MY SAIS. I hadn’t seen Devlen’s face since he attacked me at the Thunder Valley market two seasons ago. But the big smile reminded me that Ulrick and not Devlen’s soul resided within the body.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked.

“Word moves like lightning in these small towns.” He hooked an arm around my shoulders and propelled me down the street. “One of the merchants sent me a warning that someone was asking about me. Or, rather, the new me.” He squeezed me close. “I knew you would figure it out! Devlen claimed he would fool everyone, but I warned him he couldn’t trick you.”

Guilt flared. Caught off guard, I felt unbalanced. Our reunion was not how I had envisioned it. I thought I would have to rescue him.

“What’s been going on? Tell me everything,” he said.

I stopped and searched his face. “Did something else happen to you when you switched bodies with Devlen? You seem…”

“Happy?”

“I was going to say different, but happy works. You never were the overjoyous type.” He had been moody, sullen, protective and jealous, which made the times he had been in a good mood stand out. “Why are you happy? Do you have any idea what Devlen did in your body? What he did to me? If you consented to the trade, you’re just as guilty as he is.”

He sobered. “Let’s find a quiet corner to talk.”

He led me to a pub called the Emerald Eyes. Ulrick nodded to the owner and strode to a back table. I had been in here earlier and the owner claimed he hadn’t seen anyone matching Ulrick’s description.

After we sat, the man glided over to us carrying two mugs of ale.

“I see you found your friend,” the proprietor said, setting a mug before me.

“No thanks to you.”

The owner was unaffected by my comment. “Rick is my best customer. You’re a stranger. Dinner?”

“Yes,” Ulrick said.

“No,” I said. When the owner left, I raised an eyebrow. “Rick?”

He squirmed a bit. “I couldn’t use my real name. It didn’t feel right, and I don’t like the name Devlen. Rick worked.”

“So you agreed to be Rick? It wasn’t forced on you?”

He gulped his ale and set the mug on the table, placing it in the same ring of wetness. Avoiding my gaze, he fiddled with it.

“Why did you switch bodies with Devlen?”

“I couldn’t resist.”

“Resist what?” I prompted, although I had a good guess.

“The power.” He looked up. “You know, Opal. Remember when everyone called your magic the One-Trick Wonder? How you longed to do more?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t—”

“Really? If someone gave you the chance, would you really have refused? If Pazia approached you, before she lost her magic, and wanted to change places? Think about it before you answer.”

The temptation would have been strong, but I would have refused because of the blood magic.

Before I could speak, he said, “I went from Ulrick, the One-Trick Nobody, to Rick, The Magician.” He laid his hands on the table with the palms up. The mug rattled, then floated into his hand. His lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“Didn’t you think we might have just scratched the surface of your own magic? That you might be able to do more?” I clamped down on my next question. Didn’t he think about me?

“He’s a Sandseed Story Weaver. He read the threads of my life and said I possessed one ability—to infuse my glass pieces with a brush of magic so they could read a person’s mood.” Bitterness spiked his voice. “The only way to increase my power was to switch with him. He no longer desired his magical ability. Devlen wanted to be an average man. I’m sorry if he hurt you by leaving so abruptly…” Ulrick paused. “Is that how you discovered the switch? Because you thought I wouldn’t leave you?”