“What about the horses? They’ll need fresh water and more grain.”

“There are a few coastal towns along the way. We’ll stop there for supplies and sniff around.” Leif smiled.

His comment led me to wonder about the magician’s wild magic. “How do the Masters know someone is out of control? The Bloodgood peninsula is a long way from the Keep.”

“They flash. Without any control over what they’re doing, they’ll grab power and use it all at once. It sends ripples in the power blanket, alerting the Masters. It usually takes a few flashes for the Masters to pinpoint the location of the wild magician.” Leif’s gaze grew distant. “It’s how Irys found Yelena. She flashed while Irys worked undercover in Ixia. Yelena learned how to control her power, but if she had been too close to flameout, Irys would have killed her.”

And now Irys and Yelena were good friends. Interesting. “Have the Masters killed many people?”

“Six in the last fifty years.” He dug his fingers into the sand. “I was there for three of them. My abilities helped the Masters find the person faster. Fortunately, that is a rare event. They usually find the magician before it becomes necessary. And now with your glass animals and their inner glow, Irys has a foolproof way to identify those who have power. This is the first person she missed in five years.”

“Why didn’t the Masters sense this person before now?”

Leif played with the sand, letting the grains pour off his palms. “This one is…different. He or she has flashed twice in the past season. The first one was minor and didn’t cause too much concern. But the second was huge, bordering on flameout. That’s why we’re scrambling to find him or her.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “But this time, we won’t have to terminate the person.” Leif’s excitement lit his face. “Your ability to siphon the magic will solve the problem.”

Despite my annoyance at the Council, I was glad that my strange glass magic would help someone.

The days and nights blurred together as we set a fast pace. We slept on the beach during our short breaks. The Cliffs turned into hills, then smoothed into dunes. On the fourth—fifth?—day we stopped at a small seaside town. Faded paint peeled off wooden buildings and crushed seashells paved the streets.

As we rode through the two blocks of downtown, the residents gawked at us. By the way the children chased after us and pointed, I figured the place didn’t get many visitors. Windows had been boarded up. Only one inn remained open for business.

We rented a room. First thing I did was order a bath. Sand filled my boots and stuck to my skin. I decided I liked it much better melted as glass.

The town’s sad state wasn’t unique. During the next two—three?—days of our trip, we rode past other settlements. All weathered and lacking vitality.

But on the day Leif turned serious about sniffing out the wild magician, the beaten-down buildings changed into well-cared-for dwellings. Shoppers bustled in the market. Residents smiled and commented on the weather.

During dinner that night, I asked Leif about the difference.

“Oysters,” he said. “We’re getting closer to the oyster farms. Lots of jobs and money associated with harvesting oysters and selling the pearls. Since these pearl-growing oysters were discovered off the Bloodgood peninsula, business has been booming.”

Our pace slowed as we rode through the clusters of oyster farms. Leif combed through the streets, searching for the wild magician. He talked to various townspeople. When a person started to display signs of magic, gossip and speculation would spread.

However, no one had heard rumors and most residents seemed surprised. After three days of nothing, Leif speculated the magician might be inland. He contacted the Master Magicians, but they insisted we stay on the coast.

“It’s been ten days. How much longer?” Skippy asked.

“As long as it takes,” Leif snapped. “If you ask that question again, I’m going to punch you.”

On the eleventh day, we met with one of the town’s leaders. He didn’t know of anyone with powers, but he had some suspicions.

“There’s a group living on the tip of the peninsula. They keep to themselves, so anything is possible with them. About twice a season, they send the same three men to sell their pearls and buy supplies.” He adjusted his straw hat. The wide brim blocked the sun from his gray eyes. “They built a wall, blocking access to the tip. We’ve gotten the hint that visitors aren’t welcome. But if you’re here as representatives of the Master Magicians and the Council, they have no legal recourse to block you.”

That was the kicker. Legal versus illegal.

“How far from here?” Leif asked.

“About four hours on horseback. There’s not much between our town and the tip. Heck, I’m surprised they can harvest oysters on that rocky point. The currents whip around there, making it dangerous to swim.”

We all glanced at the sea as if we could see the tide. The sun dipped into the horizon, sending ripples of color.

“We’ll wait until tomorrow,” Leif said, then thanked the man.

Renting a room at one of the local inns, we dumped our bags on the floor and discussed strategy.

“If you notice, I never say wild or uncontrolled magician,” Leif said. “People know those words can get someone killed and they’ll lie to you. New magician is a better descriptor.”

“Why are you telling us?” I asked. “You’ve been doing all the talking.”