She glanced at the main door, then turned to me as if she had made a decision. “Irys will have a fit, but it’s cruel to let you suffer.” Yelena crouched and reached through the bars, pressing her hand on my injury.

“What—ow!”

Her magic held me immobile. Pain flared, then dulled to a throb, changing into a bone-deep itch. She pulled away and closed her eyes. Blood spread on her shoulder, soaking her tunic.

The door to the cells flew open. Master Jewelrose sprinted into the room followed by a bunch of guards.

Without opening her eyes, Yelena said, “Wait.”

Irys scowled, but kept quiet. When my mobility returned, I scratched my newly healed skin.

Yelena rolled her shoulders and met Irys’s unhappy gaze. “Her wound was infected.” Her statement sounded like a challenge.

My cell felt colder after they left. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders—part of a huge care package Mara had brought me. The whole Council session, being locked in a cell, the lies and backroom dealings had left a rancid taste in my mouth. I had trusted the Council, had believed Zitora would defend me, not betray me. Not anymore. Time to stop wallowing in pity and act. Time to trust no one and stop relying on others.

I reviewed Tama Moon’s comments about my glass messengers and leverage. Her advice didn’t strike me quite the same way this time. Before I thought them selfish. Perhaps I needed to be a little more selfish. I would wait and bide my time as Yelena requested, but I would also prepare. I’d proved to Devlen I wasn’t a doormat, and I would prove it to the Council, as well.

As Yelena had predicted, the Council released me with a number of conditions. I could craft my glass messengers, as long as another magician remained in the workshop. No experiments with my magic were allowed. I could leave the Magician’s Keep if I had permission and a Council-approved escort. In other words, I continued to be a prisoner, but without the bars. They kept my glass bees, spiders and the diamonds in my saddlebags. They returned my cloak and bags.

At least I wouldn’t be monitored by magic. With a null shield around me at all times, no magic could penetrate it. However, I would have escorts anytime I left my room. Swell.

The Council session had lasted six days. Yelena left for Ixia and said I should return to my studies. Except Zitora had taken me out of my classes so I could concentrate on the glass factory and experimenting with my powers.

It was the middle of the warming season. The Keep’s current session would finish at the end of the heating season—approximately one hundred and fifty days away. The time loomed over me like a prison sentence. Would I be allowed to graduate?

One way to find out. I dressed in my usual glassmaking clothes—a pair of brown pants and a plain khaki short-sleeved tunic. I wrapped a leather belt around my waist so the end of my shirt wouldn’t interfere with my work. Pulling on my worn leather boots, I smiled, remembering how they had filled with water when I tried to climb out on the sea rocks to talk to Kade.

After pulling my hair into a ponytail, I swung my cloak around my shoulders and paused. I wondered if the Council had inspected the garment before sending it back to me. Fingering the hem, I felt a line of odd-shaped bumps. Janco’s habit of sewing lock picks into all his clothes had given me an idea. I had hidden a handful of my diamonds and my glass spiders in my cloak.

I debated removing them and hiding them in my rooms, but decided to keep them in place for now. Working up the nerve, I headed toward Zitora’s office, ignoring the man shadowing me. Even though Zitora had avoided me throughout the Council’s interrogation, she remained my mentor.

A few students hustled along the Keep’s walkways. The cold morning air blew through the campus as if the temperature held no regard for the time of year. I entered the Keep’s administration building and dodged the surprised and suspicious glances cast my way.

Zitora’s office was located on the second floor. I raised my hand to knock on her door, but it swung open. First Magician Bain Bloodgood hustled out.

“Come, child, we have much to discuss.” He linked his arm in mine and led me down the hallway at a fast pace.

I glanced back. Zitora’s office door clicked shut. The sound mimicked the tight feeling in my chest. When I almost stumbled on his navy robe, my attention returned to the First Magician.

“Master Bloodgood, why—”

“Not out here.” He pushed open his door and ushered me into his office. All the Master Magicians had an office in the administration building.

The room smelled of parchment and ink. Bookshelves covered all the walls. He cleaned off a chair, adding more height to the mountains of files and texts on the floor.

“Sit down.” Bain settled behind his desk. Small metal contraptions littered the surface and dark ink stained the wood. He peered at a slip of paper. “You have completed four years of course work, but your studies have been interrupted this year.”

“I was helping—”

“In order for you to graduate, you need to finish the apprentice’s curriculum.”

“But Master Cowan said—”

“Opal.” His voice warned me to keep quiet. “I’m well aware of your special arrangements with Zitora. However, she is no longer directing your education. I am.” He handed me the paper. “You will start tomorrow morning.”

I scanned the schedule of classes. Two in the morning, two in the afternoon and a session in the evenings with Master Bloodgood followed by one hour in the glass shop.