The driver turned, confused. ‘Following that carriage, like you said.’
‘Well, don’t let them know that we’re following them!’ I said. ‘Haven’t you ever seen any superspy movies?’
‘What’s a movie?’ the driver asked, followed by, ‘And . . . what’s a superspy?’
I didn’t have time to explain. I waved for Himalaya and Folsom to duck. However, there just wasn’t enough room – one of us would have to sit up. Would my mother recognize Folsom, a famous Smedry? What about Himalaya, a rebel Librarian? We were all conspicuous.
‘Can’t you two do something to hide us?’ Himalaya hissed. ‘You know, magic powers and all that.’
‘I could beat up her horse, if we had music,’ Folsom said thoughtfully.
Himalaya glanced at me, worried, and it wasn’t until that moment that I remembered that I was an Oculator.
Oculator. Lens-wielder. I had magic glasses, including the ones my grandfather had given me earlier. I cursed, pulling out the purple ones he’d called Disguiser’s Lenses. He’d told me to think of something, then look at someone, and I would appear to be that thing. I slid the Lenses on and focused.
Himalaya yelped. ‘You look like an old man!’
‘Lord Smedry?’ Folsom asked, confused.
That wouldn’t do. Shasta would recognize Grandpa Smedry for sure. I threw myself up into the seat and thought of someone else. My sixth-grade teacher, Mr. Mann. I remembered, at the last minute, to picture him wearing a tunic like he was from the Free Kingdoms. Then I looked over at my mother, sitting in the next carriage.
She glanced at me. My heart thumped in my chest. (Hearts tend to do that. Unless you’re a zombie. More on those later.)
My mother’s eyes passed over me without showing any signs of recognition. I breathed a sigh of relief as the carriages started again.
Using the Disguiser’s Lenses was more difficult than any others I’d used before. I got a jolt if my shape changed forms, and that happened whenever I let my mind wander. I had to remain focused to maintain the illusion.
As we continued, I felt embarrassed at taking so long to remember the Disguiser’s Lenses. Bastille often chastised me for forgetting that I was an Oculator, and she was right. I still wasn’t that used to my powers, as you will see later.
(You’ll notice that I often mention ideas I’m going to explain later in the book. Sometimes I do this because it makes nice foreshadowing. Other times, I’m just trying to annoy you. I’ll let you decide which is which.)
‘Do either of you recognize where we are?’ I asked as the carriage ‘chase’ continued.
‘We’re approaching the king’s palace, I think,’ Folsom said. ‘Look, you can see the tips of the towers.’
I followed his gesture and saw the white peaks of the palace. On the other side of the street, we passed an enormous rectangular building that read in big letters ROYAL ARCHIVES (NOT A LIBRARY!) on the front. We turned, then rolled past a line of castles on the back side of the street. My mother’s carriage turned as if to round the block again. Something seemed wrong.
‘Driver, catch up to the carriage up there,’ I said.
‘Indecisive today, aren’t we?’ the driver asked with a sigh. At the next intersection, we rolled up beside the carriage, and I looked over at my mother.
Only, she wasn’t there. The carriage held someone who looked a little like her, but wasn’t the same woman. ‘Shattering Glass!’ I cursed.
‘What?’ Folsom asked, peeking up over the lip of the carriage.
‘She gave us the slip,’ I said.
‘Are you sure that’s not her?’ Folsom asked.
‘Um, yeah. Trust me.’ I might not have known she was my mother at the time, but ‘Ms. Fletcher’ had watched over me for most of my childhood.
‘Maybe she’s using Lenses, like you,’ Himalaya said.
‘She’s not an Oculator,’ I replied. ‘I don’t know if she knew she was being followed, but she somehow got out of that carriage when we weren’t looking.’
The other two got up off the floor, sitting again. I eyed Himalaya. Had she somehow tipped off my mother that we were following?
‘Shasta Smedry,’ Himalaya said. ‘Is she a relative of yours, then?’